


Mercy

by UniversalSatan



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cop AU, Crimes & Criminals, Detective AU, Fire, Gen, Investigations, M/M, Murder Mystery, Psychological, Questionable Slowburn, Serial Killers, Shane and Ryan are cops/investigators, Symbolism, True Crime, With Plants, and description of investigating bodies but, be ready to try and connect stuff, theres some violence at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2018-12-20 21:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 76,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11929668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalSatan/pseuds/UniversalSatan
Summary: "The name's Ryan," he introduced himself, "Ryan Bergara." Shane took his hand and shook it."Shane Madej. Pleased to be working with you, Ryan.""... Every lawyer gets at least one case in his lifetime that affects him personally." - Atticus FinchOr in this case, as a cop/investigator, Shane Madej gets a case he seems to have no connection to have just about everything to do with him. A helpful passing Fed Ryan Bergara partners up with him as they try and figure out the face behind the interesting case.





	1. Start of a Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing with the AU in my head for probably about 3 years now? And have been promising to write this fic for a few months now (and have it released by the time True Crime came out hahaha that's funny). 
> 
> But here it is! And I'm really excited for you guys to read it and see how the plot unfolds. :)

_Something felt wrong to Shane. Something felt very, very wrong._

_He was a child now, but that's not what irked him, what made his heart stop and the hair on his arms stand up. The atmosphere was pretty vague in detail and accuracy, so it was a wonder Shane zeroed in on these specifics._

_Shane was in his old kitchen; the place he sat for a good portion of his childhood. He'd sit at the kitchen table reading a book - any book he could get his hands on - and listen to his mother move around as she cooked. The radio crackled beside the sink, playing oldies that Shane swung and bounced his legs to._

_Out of the corner of his eye, Shane saw the clock change to 1:00. He stood up suddenly, flipping his book down onto the table. His mother turned to watch him rush to the front door, struggling to put his shoes on. She was smiling at him, gazing at him with fondness just as the telephone rung. Shane even paused what he was doing and stood to watch his mother answer the phone._

_Shane knew that this wasn't quite happened back then, how everything slowed down around him. It's like his mind was forgetting or not letting him know what was going to happen next, but he was extremely tensed nevertheless. Whatever it was, he did not want to go through this again._

_His mother was smiling when she picked up the phone, but as soon as the person on the other side began talking, her face started to fall. Shane could sense this was a lot more serious than any usual phone call. He already wanted to throw up, no matter what the bad news was._

_"A- a white Chevy Metro? When he was walking home from Sunday school? I- alright, I'll- I'll tell him somehow..." She was biting her fingernails, which was something she never did. She covered her mouth with a hand, the other shaky hand putting the telephone back on the receiver. "Shane? Honey?"  Shane had forgotten about his half-tied shoes. His arms were hanging limply at his sides as he braced himself for whatever news she had._

_"Yeah?"_

_"He's... he's gone, honey. You can't go anymore. He's gone, I'm so sorry, he's gone," she whispered, "Someone stole him, they don't know where he is or if he's okay or- I'm so sorry honey I know how badly you wanted to play with him but... Stevie's gone. He's gone, oh my god he's gone."_

_Shane was shaking. There weren't any tears - or at least he couldn't tell, since he had buried himself in a hug in his mother's apron. She was rubbing his back in comforting circles, repeating those damned words over and over again until he suffocated underneath their weight._

_He's gone._

_He's gone._

_He's gone-_

Shane gasped for air, heaving as he rolled around in his bed. He was basically laying in a pool of sweat. The sheets underneath him were uncomfortably warm, and his bare chest was sticky against the duvet. 

A memory warped into a dream.  _That's all it was_.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed his face and normalized his breathing. The disappearance of his childhood friend happened before he went into grade 1, yet that memory was still so vivid to him. Or at least that announcement was - he had tried to block out most of his memory of Stevie as he was growing up.

He was never found in the end.

It took Shane a few more seconds to realize that it was actually his phone that had woken him up. Squinting at the clock, he groaned as he picked up his noisy cellphone from his nightstand, wondering who the fuck thought they were so important at 2:35 in the fucking morning. He grabbed his glasses and slid them onto his face as he answered the call.

"Who is it?" he grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"Madej? Are you finally awake?"

Great. It was his boss: Chief Bennett. The head of the Mercy Police Department. As monotone as ever on a job. Shane could barely hear the voice of his coworker Keith muttering something in the background. There were cars in the background, so they were outside wherever they were, but the traffic was nowhere near them.

"I am now."

"Good. I need you here ASAP."

"...  _What?_  It's  _2:30_  in the morning."

Brent sighed: "Why are you arguing with me? Do your job, Madej."

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," Shane mumbled, sliding out of the warmth of his bed. He shuffled around his room, searching for his uniform. "What do you need?"

"You, here. Near Main street. The alley beside the Dunkin Donuts on Elm street. As soon as you can possibly be here."

"What happened? Why is it so important for me to be there right now?"

" _Evidence,_  Madej. I need you here to investigate what you can. I know you're usually just an officer, but we're on a tight staff list right now. Fulmer's out of town right now."

"Yeah but for what?" His phone was between his ear and shoulder as he struggled to pull a sock on. Once he was finished dressing, he ran to the kitchen to prepare himself some day-old coffee for on the go. 

"You'll find out when you get here. You better be quick, Madej." The phone beeped, and the line was cut. That was very much like Bennett: getting straight to the point and not letting it stray. Sighing, Shane took the finished call to his advantage to finish getting ready. Grabbing his keys, he locked the door behind him before jogging over to his own car.

Mercy was about as empty as it should be at 2:30 in the morning. It wasn't a huge city, but was big enough to have a little bit of everything. There wasn't that big of a police force, yet there was still an issue with dealing with crime within the area. Still, there wasn't anyone walking out and about right now anyways.

Thank god Elm street wasn't too far from where he lived, otherwise Bennett probably would've handed Shane's ass to him. It was completely an utterly dark outside, and the sky was clear enough that you could spot a few stars in the sky despite being in the middle of the small city. The air was cool, and Shane was grateful for the minimal warmth his jacket offered him.

Parking the car just across the street from the taped-off alley, he jumped out and hurried towards where two figures in police uniforms were conversing. As he grew closer, he recognized their voices as those of Chief Bennett and Keith.

"What's up?" Shane yawned, glancing over at the crime scene as he addressed them.

"Nice timing, Madej," Chief Bennett commented, not lifting his eyes from a notepad in his hands.

Keith piped up: "Murder. Stab in the chest. Woman, young adult. There's some gloves in the car over there to investigate."

"Thanks man."

"Sorry you get to do all the dirty work. You're the one with the most experience."

"It's fine. I've dealt with worse."

"What kind of training or experience did you go through?"

"Fun stuff," Shane smirked, leaving to actually get the latex gloves.

Creeping up to the body, Shane crouched down to get a better view of it slouched and distorted against the brick wall of the building. He winced when he felt her empty eyes like slits staring at him. Using two fingers, he gently closed her eyelids all the way, muttering a few words of sorry to her as he did so. 

"Don't go ahead start ruining evidence right off the bat. Did you know that's why most True Crime unsolved cases are unsolved?"

Shane was trained not to jump suddenly, but he still froze when he heard the unfamiliar voice. He backed up a couple of steps before turning around to acknowledge the new presence.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't go messin' anything up. This case just might end up being important," the man pointed at the body on the wall. The man was about an average height (which was pretty short to Shane), had neatly styled black hair, and a nice tan trenchcoat on. Shane raised his eyebrows.

"I do the investigations, or at least some of them. I know very well what goes wrong with True Crime cases, and I can do my job very well,  _thank you very much_. Who the heck are you? Why are you on a strictly police-only crime scene?"

"I was passing by," he held up his hands defensively when Shane glared at him and moved to stand up, "I work a bit as an FBI agent back in Washington. I was going home because nothing had happened, but now that something's happened there's no hurt in lending a helping hand from a professional." Shane scowled at the badge the man was demonstrating, turning back to the body to continue investigating.  _'Professional' his ass_  - he was going to continue doing his job and his job only that he'd been doing forever now. 

Thank god the mysterious man stayed quiet for a bit longer as Shane continued on with his job. He could almost feel his eyes boring into his back, but he ignored the feeling for the time being. His job was to find any circumstantial evidence around the scene that may become crucial to the case later.

Gently prodding where the wound was made, he took note that the blood wasn't warm anymore but was still pretty sticky. Shaking his sleeve off his arm a bit, Shane calculated on his watch that the murder probably happened a few hours ago - between 10pm to 12 am. The wound didn't seem deep, so it was probably some sort of switchblade. Directly between the ribs adjacent to the heart. Probably hit an artery. Whoever killed her at least had an inkling of what they were doing. 

Checking her mouth by moving her as little as possible, he saw her teeth were tinted with blood, along with a bit drying out of her agape mouth. The woman had probably began coughing up the blood in her last moments and choked on that too.

"You're pretty thorough. Isn't that the morgue's job?" Shane turned his head to look at the man again, who had his arms crossed confidently now.

"They love getting the most possible information they can beforehand. I thought you would know this, being an FBI agent and all," Shane let his tongue slip as he went back to work, checking the woman's pockets for anything substantial as evidence. He was surprised to only hear the man laugh.

"That's fair. Also, in case you're looking for ID, they already have her purse. Chief Bennett sealed it immediately."

"Is that so?"

"Nothing was taken from it. Debit and credits were all there, including about $500 in cash. All identity still intact too. Which is interesting, since someone murdered usually means the criminal was after something... or would at least take what they could get."

"..."

"Carrying $500 in cash is the weird bit to me. Who even does that?"

"You're not helping right now."

"Oh... they did find one thing though."

Shane stood up immediately. He was done checking the victim, but the tone in the man's voice intrigued him.

"Oh, did you not know?" the man continued.

"What did they find? I'm supposed to be investigating this, why didn't they tell me anything important right off the bat?"

"They found a note on the body."

"A note? From whom? What kind of paper? What kind of ink? Has it been sealed for DNA tests?"

"Um..."

"Why? What did it say?"

The man sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he tried to explain: "See... you see... the note... it said something that really bothered Chief Bennett..."

"Is that why he made me come so urgently with no explanation?" 

The man stared him down seriously as he spoke: "The note read  _'Please assign Officer Shane Madej to the case. - Signed, John Novel'_ " He was biting his lip, unsure of how Shane was going to react.

To be completely honest, nothing in the entire world would have prepared Shane for this moment.  _Why was his name on a murder note? How did the murderer know him? Who the fuck was John Novel? What kind of a stupid alias was that, if they were not stupid enough to use their actual name?_

Focusing on keeping himself rooted in reality, Shane took a deep breath and went around the area to begin searching for more circumstantial evidence. Whoever this was probably put the world against him at this point.

"You don't know, huh," the man mumbled, studying Shane's reaction, "I can tell. This almost seems like a piece of fiction."

"What the fuck kind of criminal is going to go to these lengths to keep their identity? Not only that, but give hints on their identity? Is that their actual name? Were they actually that stupid?"

"I don't think so. Chief Bennett called up a certain Bianchi to search up names across the country along the lines of  _'John Novel'_. He doesn't seem too satisfied." Shane felt relatively bad that Chief had to wake up Adam at the asscrack of night, as the whole note thing was probably his fault somehow. Shame he had to drag everyone else into this, whatever it was.

"Well, then why is Mr-So-Concerned-Chief-Brent-Bennett letting me,  _a now probably very suspicious character_ , investigate the body?" Shane snapped, tongue the only sharp thing about his movements. He had to comb every inch of the area as carefully as possible. 

"That's why he's been keeping an eye on you like a hawk," the man gestured over to Chief, who indeed was tracing every one of Shane's movements with his eyes, "And sent me over here after I talked to him."

" _Great._  Just... fuckin'  _peachy_." It would be an understatement to say that Shane was upset to wake up to all this fuckery. First the weird flashback, and then a  _MURDERER_  coming to frame him somehow. Muttering an impressive string of curse words under his breath about his situation, he began taking off his used latex gloves so he could write down his findings.

"Hey, man," the man shuffled right up to him, trying to be wary of an action that would worsen Shane's mood, "I know this all seems pretty shit and all, but it's only one case of a bundle of other shit ones. What's that one quote from that book...  _To Kill A Mockingbird_? In your context, it'd be  _'every [cop or investigator] gets at least one case in his lifetime that affects him personally'._  "

"That's deep and all," Shane smiled slightly mockingly, "But that doesn't really help."

"Then what about me? I have nothing interesting at home, and I'm sure the Feds want me involved here anyways. I'll be your partner. I'll help you."

"Keith's already my partner-"

"For this case, Shane. I promise I can be of a lot of help to you."

Shane narrowed his eyes skeptically, moving his hands to get rid of that powder-y feeling the latex gloves had given him. There was a hand outstretched in front of him, relaxed and welcoming for a handshake. The man's hand seemed a tiny bit worn from working a lot, and there was an expensive watch on his wrist. Shane's eyes flickered back up to see the man smiling.

"The name's Ryan," he introduced himself, "Ryan Bergara." Shane took his hand and shook it.

"Shane Madej. Pleased to be working with you, Ryan."


	2. Consultation

Shane didn't have a history of crime. Hell, he barely had a history of anything.

He had about as average of an upbringing as one could get - minus some interesting training patrols he had gotten for his job, but he wasn't personally involved in those anyways. There was only so much you could do with a suicide epidemic.

That being said, there weren't that many incidents, and they were normally spaced out. All they had involved was a bunch of paperwork and some on-scene investigation, since Shane usually ended up being one of the first officers on scene. That's partially the reason why Bennett had asked him to do any other body investigations if the more experienced officers were away.

Well, the sparkling clean slate of a history was just a tiny bit of a lie. He hadn't done anything, no, but the disappearance of his friend Stevie had a huge impact on him personally. That was decades ago though - simply a flicker of a memory that served its purpose as a benchmark in the timeline of his life. Every once in a while, Shane would think about the case and wonder what had really happened, but then something else in his life would come up and he'd forget about it all over again.

Then again, there had been a  significant piece of evidence from that case that Shane would always go back to thinking about. About a year later, someone had somehow found the waterlogged remains of a human toe washed up on a beach near where they had lived. With a few DNA tests and pathological investigations, they determined that it was Stevie's, and that he was probably dead now, somewhere in the ocean. The case was closed from further investigations, since there wasn't anything else they could pursue considering the wall of  conditions they had already met with.

Shane wasn't so sure though. Perhaps it was just his childish intuition and need for someone he loved dearly to be alive, but he had created all sorts of different scenarios in which a badass Stevie had escaped his captor and was now living on deserted island with his pet crabs and chickens.

Of course, all of those theories were from ages ago. Even if he had lived out a fantastic action movie lifestyle as a castaway, he would probably be dead by now anyways. Living for 20 years like that wouldn't be realistic. Plus, with all the technology now, there hadn't been a castaway for who knows how many years: they would have already long found Stevie by now, dead or alive.

Unfortunately, neither of those seemed to be the case.

Now, there was another mystery in Shane's hands.  _The interesting yet bizarre case of John Novel._

To be completely honest, Shane wasn't even sure if John Novel was the murderer themselves. If this truly was as complicated as Shane thought, there was a possibility that John Novel hadn't even committed the murder of the woman just earlier. Why they had wanted to get Shane wrapped up in all of this was a mystery to him. He hadn't even grown up in Mercy, for fuck's sake. Why was he the one with any connection to the case?

Shane highly doubted that Adam had found anything from the name itself. It was most likely an alias or some sort of code. What could it have meant though? Nothing made sense, so Shane's mind started to wander aimlessly. 

_John Novel... Volume Johnathan... Johnny Series... The Book of-_

Bright white lights were suddenly turned on, blinding Shane of both sight and thought. Wincing, he squinted to try and see what was new in his environment. 

There was already a lot of new things about his environment. He was in a closed room, brick walls grey and dreary. There was what he knew was a one-way mirror in front of him, and other than that just a metal table and the metal chair on which he sat on. The only thing that was mismatched in the room was the worn wooden chair at the other side of the table. The light had come from the lamp on the table, which had been unceremoniously angled directly into Shane's face. 

Shane already knew where he was. He'd been in that room for at least half an hour now. The only thing that was different now was the officer across him awkwardly fidgeting with the lamp to turn it away from Shane's face.

"So sorry about that," the officer mumbled, "I didn't realize whoever used this room last left it like that."

"You should at least try to be more intimidating here, Steven. I'm a criminal here." Meeting each other's eyes, they cracked large smiles as Steven stepped back to sit down on the wooden chair.

Steven was one of Shane's coworkers and friends. It was ironic to have another friend in adulthood with a name similar to his missing friend from childhood, but perhaps it was some sort of karma. As much as Shane would have wanted them to be the same person, he had already found out enough about Steven's background to know that they weren't the same person at all. That, and they looked just about nothing alike.

"I could have persuaded Bad Cop to come here instead, but I guess you have me instead. Bad Cop had to go out on patrol with Keith, since Keith's partner was gracious enough to get himself in handcuffs." Steven was relaxed against his chair, arms crossed. It would have almost seemed like a friendly situation if not for the room they were currently situated in.

Shane laughed: "Andrew? Please... And you bring up a good point..." He raised his handcuffed wrists, " _What are these?_ " He set them back comfortably on the table, going back to twiddling his thumbs, as he had been before whilst in thought.

"Those? You like them?"

"Not particularly."

"And here I thought you were glad to finally have something around your wrists," Steven joked, casually leaning on the back legs of his chair.

" _Ha ha_ , how kinky do you think I am?" Shane rolled his eyes. He tugged at the handcuffs as he spoke, feeling the metal dig into his arm as he pulled harder. Steven shrugged nonchalantly, jumping foreword just a tiny bit when there were a few bangs on the one-way mirror.

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, it was mostly Bennett's idea."

"Of course.  _Who else._ "

"Shane... he's really worried about this case. Especially since it was your name specifically that was mentioned by the murderer. You don't have some sort of secret famous online life, do you? Pokerstars maybe? Cam boy?"

" _No_. I'm the most uninteresting person there is. Maybe the biggest thing I do is go to the piano bar on Main, but all of you guys have seen me there-"

"Brent's just worried, Shane," Steven sighed, interrupting him, "He's being cautious. I'm pretty sure this won't last long - we just need to ask you some questions. You can at least realize how serious the situation is, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Shane moved forewords, propping up his elbows to lean his chin on his hands. Glancing behind Steven, he could almost see Bennett's stoic face, watching his and Steven's interactions with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered back to Steven, who was pulling out a small notepad and pen from a pocket.

"Sooo..." Steven drawled, scribbling on his pad to see if the pen worked, "How's you're day been so far?" There was another single knock from the one-way window. Steven grinned. "Sorry, sorry."

"Not too bad. Didn't get breakfast though. When's lunch?"

"It's still only about 6:30," Steven checked his watch, "So you might even have a bit of time to get a small breakfast if we finish this quickly."

"Perfect. Shoot, then."

"Alright. I'll go with some easy stuff then. What do you know about a certain John Novel?"

"I... have no idea. I really don't." Pleading wasn't going to work. Shane dealt with interrogations like these all the time (granted on the other side of them, but still), so he knew what they wanted.  _And he was going to give them everything he possibly could._

"I have never been very acquainted with anyone under the name John - or Novel, for that fact. The closest I may know of a John would just maybe be someone in my grade in High School, but that's it. I'm pretty sure you guys know, since you have a lot of my background information. Plus I'm always performing at the piano bar if I'm not at work - you guys see me there all the time."

"Personal alibi, haha, I like it. Then what do you know about the name John Novel?"

"Am I allowed to ask what Adam has found in his search?"

"Nope."

"That's fair. Hmm, well... I think it would have been dumb to leave a signature on your victim. I think it's some sort of alias or code, but I have no idea what."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. I have no leads with the name John Novel."

"Alright then... what connections do you have to Eliza Chang?"

"Who?"

"Just answer the question please."

"Um... none? Was she victim?" Steven didn't answer him, so Shane hummed as he thought. "Well... I've never heard of her name before. Mercy isn't a town, so people don't know everyone like their next-door neighbors... I've never spoken or interacted with an Eliza Chang before."

"How about anyone with the surname Chang?"

"No. Never."

"Alright then," Steven sighed. He wrote a few things on his notepad, seeming really bored with the job already. Shane could tell that Steven trusted him, to which they both knew the outcome of the interview would be pretty dull. "Is there any other way that you could possibly be connected to this case? Why would you be chosen by the criminal specifically for this case?"

"Would it be easier if I just speak my train of thought? No filter? Will Bennett be happier with that?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Well, I'd like to start off by saying I do not have an inkling of an idea as to why this criminal chose me. As I have stated multiple times before, I have not had an interesting enough life to have any sort of weird connection to anything. The only connection I've had to a crime was the disappearance of my friend when I was 5, but I have already spoke to Chief Bennett about that. That was over 2 decades ago though, and nothing has happened since. 

"The only reason someone would have put my name on a note would be to frame me somehow, so psychologically I can use that as a piece of my defense. The only thing I could think of is if they chose me based on my skills as an officer. I do not specialize in anything, but perhaps it could be from something I worked with? Which then makes me begin to think that this isn't over.

"It's true that a murder case is huge, but why leave a note asking me to investigate? I have no connections or clue to who this Eliza Chang is, so one of my worries is that this is perhaps the first of more cases. Maybe that could lead me to perhaps being better at going through this investigation? Which is strange, because a criminal would want to be as inconspicuous and sneaky as possible... which could mean I'd be bad for this investigation after all.

"I guess that still doesn't explain what I have in connection with any this. I'm only spouting theories, as that is all I have. The one thing I have different from all of you guys within the workplace is working a lot with the suicide epidemic. We waved it off as unusual, and that was it... but perhaps it was something more? We did notice a trend on how there was very little depression involved in these cases, which is strange. I don't know honestly - I'm just trying to go through everything I can possibly think of thoroughly."

Shane stopped and took a huge breath, leaning back against his chair. Even he hadn't connected the dots on the suicides before, so he took the chance to reorganize his thoughts again as Steven finished writing down some last-minute notes.

"Done?" Shane asked, stretching. Steven tapped his pen on the notepad.

"Yep, I think so. That's it. Well done buddy," he beamed, standing up. 

Shane sighed in relief: "Thank god. Then can you take me out of these goddamn things?" He raised his wrists, waiting for Steven to come and release him.

"Are you sure you don't want to take them home as a souvenir?"

"Steven... I'm really hungry... I want to go eat breakfast and take a nap please..."

"Alright, alright." Steven rummaged in his pockets, searching for the key. He paused, a sheepish look dawning on his face before breaking into a grin, seeing Shane's panicked and slightly angry face at his reaction. Laughing, he took out the key and uncuffed his friend.

"Dammit, Steven, that's not funny. You should be more professional here."

"You should have seen the look on your  _face_. Priceless. Worth it. Did you really think it was possible for me to lose the keys?"

"Shut up. You better take me out for a drink tonight to pay for this."

"Hey, this isn't my fault... But you've had a rough night I guess...  _just this one time..._ "

They finally walked out of the room, the lighting almost confusing Shane. The hazy light of dusk filling the office warped his time perception, as time was pretty much nonexistent within the confines of that small room. He rubbed his wrists as he went to find the coffee maker and hopefully some already-made but still freshly brewed coffee.

As he was stirring his mug, he saw Brent walk out of the viewing room and speak to Steven out of the corner of his eye. Shane couldn't read Brent's face, but Steven didn't seem too worried, so he hoped that he might have at least some of Bennett's trust back. Unless something happened, his trust probably wouldn't be gained back until the case ended. Which could prove to be quite a while.

"Hey Bigfoot, how was the nap?" There was a light jab on his back, making him turn around suddenly and  _almost_  spill his coffee all over the two of them. 

"What the heck, Bergara? Did you really want to be burned and have your pristine white shirt ruined first thing in the morning?"

"Sorry about that."

"Also, I was being interrogated. For the note."

"Yeah. I saw."

"Saw? Were you in the viewing room with Bennett?"

"Yep. I came back just in time for your little chat." Ryan held up a bag, handing it to Shane. He took it, slightly confused but grateful.

"It's still warm... You didn't have to." There was a fresh breakfast sandwich inside from the local bakery down the street.

"It's fine - I got it on my way here. I could tell Chief Bennett was going to give it to you rough so I thought I'd get something to make your morning."

"Thanks shortcakes, I appreciate the sentiment." Shane unwrapped it and already began to eat. Staying up all night was exhausting, and really had depleted his energy. Nothing could have smelled better than the bakery bread sandwich in his hands right now.

" _Shortcakes_?"

"Dude, you called me Bigfoot."

"Yeah but that's self explanatory. Why shortcakes of all things?"

"You're sweet," he said, mouth full of sandwich.

"That's cute."

"I'll call you a gremlin instead."

"I usually prefer Ryan."

"Gremlin it is."

Shane continued to eat his breakfast while Ryan leaned on the counter, watching the rest of the office buzz around in the early morning. The officers that had been working at the scene earlier in the morning were heading off to go sleep, but the rest of the workers were slowly arriving and starting to work at their desks. They were probably all doing something in relation to the murder case. Both Ryan and Shane knew they would be doing the same thing once they were done resting.

"Hey... you mentioned that you had a childhood friend that-..." Ryan spoke hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much if Shane was uncomfortable.

"Ah, yeah,  _that_." He downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug back near the sink. "They went missing when I was 5. I don't remember much since it was so long ago. Everyone in the office knows about it at this point I guess. Probably because it's the only interesting thing that's ever happened to me."

"Oh... er... sorry to hear about that-"

"No need to be. I told you, it was over two decades ago."

"Right. Well... you also mentioned that you play at a piano bar?"

"Yeah, occasionally. Just for fun, and I guess the extra cash is a good bonus too. Jazz piano mostly. The bar on the corner of Main Street."

" _Ohhh_ , that one."

"Yeah. I could take you if you were interested. Tonight. Steven promised me a drink anyways, plus the bar's always looking for extra players."

"Isn't jazz piano really difficult?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. You're not modest at all."

"I've had lots of experience. I'd be super shitty if I wasn't half decent."

"Touche." 

Shane yawned loudly, stretching. "Oh boy, do I need a nap. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn't actually sleeping during the interrogation, and desperately need some shut eye ASAP."

"Where are you going to sleep?" Ryan seemed amused.

"Home. In my bed." He paused, realizing the intention of the question. "My house is only a few blocks away from here. It's convenient, and I only need a few hours for a nap. I'll be back before lunch."

"It's not healthy to eat just before you sleep, Bigfoot."

"Shut up, you little fucking gremlin," Shane singsonged, leaving to check himself out and go home. The last thing he heard before leaving the office was the sound of Ryan Bergara's fading laughter as he was closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry if that was Bad but its also midnight and i had an urge to write this instead of doing anything else sooooooooo ((whats editing who is she))
> 
> yeah
> 
> maybe i will add a little more skeptic believer than i was thinking lmfao


	3. The Illusion of Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nighttime jazz bar vibes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall can pry piano playing scenes from my cold dead hands
> 
> THIS IS SO LATE sorry im so late: school started the day after the last chapter and ive been dying underneath an insane school schedule that literally no one else in the school has ever done,,, anyways i was a lil stuck cause its too early for Fun parts but im getting there ;)

It wasn't even that late yet, but the mood created by the bar made it feel like it was already 12:00 am outside. Shane supposed it was the jazz that did it - even if he was the one playing it. Something about concerts and live music made time slide into night hours despite how dark the sky was.

Perhaps it was the sentimentality of it all. The dimmed and coloured lights set a tone of their own, as well as with the idle chatter and the clinking of glasses across the entire room. Or, of course, it was because Shane chose to play some of the slower stuff he knew - like Lil' Darlin and I'm Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter - instead of something upbeat like a ragtime or a stride.  _Funny how much Shane's music was dependent on his feelings._

Whatever. The crowd seemed to like it. The crowd seemed to like  _Shane_. After all, Shane  _was_ a regular performer at this gig, and was rather good at what he did nonetheless. Just because the songs were slow didn't mean he wouldn't add fancy decorations here and there.

He could feel everyone's stares on him as his fingers graced over and dug into the piano keys. At this point he was used to it all anyways. A piano bar was meant to be a casual performance area, yet you really still were the star of the night, whether you liked it or not. Even if he didn't sing, as some performers did.

 _Well_ , he had to at least try and show off a little bit. The bar wasn't really more full than usual, however, Shane had brought a special guest along. After all, he had already partially bragged to Ryan Bergara about his improvisation skills, so there was no way he could disappoint now.

Today had already been stressful enough. Shane went home after his interrogation and got a few hours of sleep, so he was pretty awake for the time of night. The atmosphere still calmed him though, and let him temporarily forget the impending severity of the case.

He ended the song delicately, holding his hands over the keys as he let the sustain ring. Only when he lifted the pedal did the polite applause begin. Standing up, he nodded politely and offered a brilliant smile, ushering another pianist waiting at the side to take over for him. Shane left quickly, grateful to the other performer for diverting the audience's attention.

Scanning the crowd, he spotted Ryan at a booth a little ways away, barely visible despite the stained glass lamp over the table. Genuinely smiling when Ryan noticed him and waved him over, he made his way through a maze of chairs and tables to meet his guest.

"You're absolutely incredible- dude, that was  _amazing_ back there," Ryan gushed, watching Shane slide across the bench across from him.

"You don't have to flatter me," he grinned.

"That kind of music really takes some talent. I bet I could never do it."

"I bet you've never tried."

"That's not the point, Shane."

"Shane? Would you like anything tonight?" A waitress had interrupted their conversation, pen and pad in her hands. "And he's right, you really did spectacularly out there this evening."

"Oh, please, I just do what I have to," Shane rolled his eyes, "And I'm feeling like it's a bourbon kind of night tonight."

"Anything else?"

"No, I think that's good for now."

"And you, sir?" she gestured to Ryan.

"A beer would be nice, thanks."

"What kind?"

"Anything on tap. Perhaps an Alexander Keith's if you have it."

"Alright. I'll be right back, you two." She left them alone to go complete their orders.

"A beer?" Shane turned back to Ryan, "That isn't very classy."

"Who said I needed to be classy?"

"Also, I don't know if you could tell, but this is also a bistro. If you're hungry, you could always order something."

"I'm not that hungry. Oh, and wasn't Steven supposed to be paying for your drinks?"

"Yeah. I'll just put it on his tab. I haven't seen him around yet though."

"He's here," Ryan pointed across the pianos to where the bar was, "He's with Chief Bennett and some other guy."

"Oh, Andrew's here too. That's nice."

"Yeah, but this also means that Bennett is still on your case."

" _And_? What am I going to be able to do about it?"

"That's true. But it doesn't frustrate you?"

"It sure as hell does, but I know Brent, and there's nothing I can do now until something else happens that will...  _un-involve me._  Is that a word?"

"Probably not. Well... honestly speaking, I hope nothing else happens," Ryan commented. His gaze was lingering over to where the other pianist was playing now. "I want to say that as a Fed I've seen some pretty nasty things, but I gotta say, you guys already have a pretty nasty case on your hands."

"Yeah I suppose...  _oh, thanks_ ," Shane smiled at the waitress, who had dropped off both of their drinks. He took a sip, taking a deep breath out when he put his glass back down.

The murder note made it seem like Eliza's death was only the tip of the iceberg, but Shane hoped that by some rare luck that it was going to end there.

Shane glanced back up again to his new friend. Ryan was staring absently at the current pianist, unblinking for a large portion of time. He swayed just slightly in his spot, playing with his fingers with his forearms resting across him on the table. His beer also remained untouched - moisture was building up against the side of the full glass right beside Ryan's arms.

"Ryan... you seem exhausted. Did you sleep at all earlier?" As Shane spoke up again, Ryan's attention snapped back to him, leading him to slowly relax against his bench once he processed Shane's question.

"Hmm, well," his eyes barely glazed over again, entranced by the soft lighting in their booth, "I don't really remember that much. After you left, my memory seems to have some blurry spots."

"What d'you mean?"

"I think I probably fell asleep on the couch in the office... or somewhere like that. I think I'm just exhausted from stress and work. It's not really any of my business, I suppose, but I have a bad feeling in my gut that this isn't nearly the end of it. The case, I mean."

"I really hope that's not going to be the case. But the couch... I suppose that's a strange place to sleep... were you still tired from your trip to Washington?"

"My what?"

"Your trip?  _Back to Washington?_ " Shane stared at him quizzically.  _Ryan must have really been beat_. "Unless you weren't going back to Washington?"

"Oh, that," Ryan softened his voice, familiarity being written back into his face, "I already forgot since it seems like I probably won't be going back for a while."

"If the case gets worse."

"Yeah, of course."

"Maybe you're coming down with something? From too much stress."

"Excuse me?"

Shane leaned over the table slightly, touching and then holding onto Ryan's hands. Ryan didn't move, and only stared at him with mild amusement. Shane cupped his hands around the two he was holding.

"Well, they aren't clammy but..." Shane muttered, rubbing his hands against Ryan's, "I noticed when we shook hands... I guess it was this morning. Earlier I just assumed it was because mornings are pretty chilly, but you didn't seem that bothered by it."

"I naturally have cold hands. Doesn't mean I'm sick."

"But it does mean you have bad circulation," he simpered, patting Ryan's hands in mock sympathy. Ryan scoffed, pulling his hands away. "But just this morning we met, huh. It feels like I know you really well already."

"Really well, hm?" Ryan thought, "I sometimes get the same feeling - that I'm comfortable around you or have known you for a long time. Oh man, I actually said  _comfortable with you_. Gross."

"Hey, don't be mean. I'm a very comfortable person."

"I wouldn't know."

"I thought you just admitted to that."

"No I didn't."

" _Liar_. Either way, I'm glad that we can at least be natural friends - especially since we gotta work together now."

"Are you making new best friends already, Shane?" Another new voice had abruptly entered the conversation, coming from a woman just against their booth, her hands splayed across their table. Ryan quirked his head curiously and glanced questioningly at Shane, but Shane just smiled and moved further down his bench, allowing her space to sit.

"Hey Sara. Didn't know you were down here too." 

"Bennett came by to check on the autopsy earlier, and mentioned you were going to be here. You know I can't miss great live music."

"Oh." Shane suddenly remembered his guest. "Sara - _I'm not sure if you've met him yet, but -_  this is my new partner, Ryan Bergara. He works with the FBI but stopped by here and is working with me on the case now. Well, at least if Bennett will let me have take case."

Sara stood up slightly to reach over the table and shake Ryan's hand firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Ryan. We're all friends since we see each other so much during investigations, so I hope you can become well acquainted with the rest of our family."

"Family...?" Ryan trailed off, glancing between the two people opposite him.

"Yeah. We're on the border from being simply a town, so our police and investigation forces are tight knit - a bit like a family. You probably saw a bit of it when Steven was working with me during my interrogation - it's the same with most of us. You'll probably fit right in once we all really get working on this case." Shane blinked, staring at the two of them for a few seconds before suddenly shaking himself. "Oh, my apologies. Ryan, this is my friend Sara. She works in the morgue and is usually the head of the autopsies that we bring her."

"They usually only see me in my labcoat," Sara stage whispered to Ryan, earning a good chuckle out of him.

"It's true - I barely recognize her in anything else."

"Oh, speaking of, Shane-" Sara turned back quickly to Shane, "Unfortunately, I actually came over to disrupt you for work reasons rather than social."

"Really?" He took another sip of his bourbon before relaxing and letting her press on. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ryan lean foreword and sharpen his attention. "And they didn't bother to tell me back at the office?"

"No, it wasn't them," Sara continued, "I put the pieces together just after Bennett left for the day."

"Did you finish the autopsy already?" Ryan piped up.

"Well... yes and no. I want to go back and investigate a little bit more tomorrow, but I came up with something interesting today."

"Really? What was it?" Shane asked.

"Hmm... it might sound a tad bit strange but... there was... a small braided sweetgrass cross hastily shoved in her jacket, just underneath her wound. You probably didn't catch it since you just inspected the wound, but it wasn't her who put it in there. We're trying to run DNA tests on the grass, but so far there's nothing. The convict must have thought about leaving as little tracks as possible."

"Sweetgrass?" Ryan mumbled. He was playing with his chin and lips -  _Shane had warily noticed_  - as he thought, eyes glazed. 

"Yes, sweetgrass," Sara went on, "Because of its cross-like shape, all I can think of is that it was some sort of symbol... but  _why_ a criminal would go to such lengths to leave some sort of signature..."

"It's completely possible it was some sort of symbol," Shane pointed out, "Especially with the note that was left. You received that too for DNA sampling, right?"

"I did," she sighed, scratching the back of her head, "Everything's just very confusing right now. Then again, I would rather there not be more evidence to the symbolism right now, as that could mean a turn for the worst."

"Symbolism, right?" Ryan hummed, "Well, isn't sweetgrass used for purification or cleansing or something of the sorts in some aboriginal cultures? Perhaps it had similar intentions - since it was weaved into a cross."

"Religious extremist? Sounds like a bit of a reach but could be entirely possible."

"Hey, hold on a second." Shane took out his phone and switched on the cellular, going onto Safari to check a suspicion of his. "Hmm, well... it says sweetgrass can be found here, but I'm not sure how common it is. Can you check where it's from, Sara?"

"Possibly. However, the only thing that will tell us is how serious this person is about keeping their symbolism."

"Considering the  _'John Novel'_  note, I'd think they're pretty serious."

"Hey, Shane, didn't you connect something to some sort of suicide cases you were working on previously? During the interrogation?" Ryan thought suddenly, grabbing Shane's attention by gripping his arm. "You had offhandedly made a comment about the suicides possibly connecting to this case."

"Those-  _ohhh_ ," Shane drew out, eyes widening when he remembered his subthought.

"What? Did you find any weird symbols or sweetgrass with those? How would those connect?" Sara pried, egging Shane on.

"It's just... they were strange for suicides. They didn't seem expected at all. And it wasn't just one outlier - it was a bunch around the same time. I'll have to review the cases."

"But Shane... we've buried or cremated the bodies already."

"We have photo and crime scene evidence still, don't we? Tomorrow I'll go and review them, just in case they were somehow influenced by something. I'll talk with Keith and Bennett too. God, thanks so much Ryan. That actually might be really important,  _wow..._ "

"Well, I'm glad we got something out of that," Sara smiled, ready to drop the subject for the evening. "Symbolism is for art,  _not_ for sciences. Unless you guys can think of something for John Novel too, I'd rather relax for the night finally."

" _John Novel... sweetgrass crosses... religious extremist..._ " Shane muttered to himself, just under his breath. For some reason, everything mentioned seemed to connect in some weird way, but Shane wasn't 100% sure  _how_  just yet.

"Oh,  _please:_  I said if you  _found_ anything," Sara rolled her eyes, waving her hands to shush him, "And where's the waitress? I'd love something to drink."

"Do you like Alexander Keith's?" Ryan said suddenly, pushing his beer foreword, "I just realized I'm not that thirsty after all. I haven't touched it, so you're welcome to have it."

Sara brightened up: "Really? Wow, thank you so much." She happily took the beer for herself, taking a swig of it before putting it back down again.

"Well, I hope we can at least get a good night's rest tonight," Shane said absently, sipping more of his bourbon.

It would have been a laughing matter if it hadn't  _actually_ happened. Because just as Shane set his drink back on the table, the entire piano bar shook with aftershocks - the grumble and surreal sound of a bomb in the distance going off. All the glasses in the restaurant shifted, some even crashed, and every surface they rested on seemed to shake - even if just slightly. The piano had even stopped, and a wave of muttering washed over the restaurant.

Shane felt like he would  _never_ get any rest in this town anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just remembered all the shit and drama i have planned for this ahahahahaha
> 
> ! also big note cause i just realized a lot of things are different in this au than irl: !  
> -mercy is set around massachussets/conneticuit area i guess (i was there in the summer and really like the setting lol that's my main reason i guess???)  
> -shane and ryan are about the same age in this


	4. Where Control Slips from One’s Grasp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 years later, i actually update for once lol
> 
> blame the writer's block and like 50 other assignments/prompts i had lol

Everyone was beginning to panic inside of the bar. As Shane glanced around, he could see Chief Bennett, Andrew, and Steven calmly usher people around and tell them what to do. Still, everyone was tense and still fearing for their safety. Shane didn't blame them; he knew he was going to have to dive first into the issue anyways - unlike them.

Sara was staring at him, her previously bright and friendly face suddenly serious, its quick change slightly unnerving. She was nodding over at Ryan, who had already begun to disappear through a crowd of people.

Pushing himself away from the booth, Shane attempted to weave between panicked people, following Ryan to the nearest exit. Shane was so focused that he didn't really notice much of the noise, and wasn't 100% sure if there were alarms going off while all of this was happening. He even accidentally bumped head on into a few people, apologizing briefly to the short mousy guy he had knocked over, who was now adjusting his glasses and seemed rather disoriented about the entire situation.

Just before they slid out the door, Shane saw Bennett catch his eye. Bennett seemed momentarily suspicious, but then just narrowed his eyes before turning away again, instructing something to Steven, who in turn went to talk with Andrew.

The explosives had already stopped a while ago, but both Ryan and Shane had a pretty good idea of which direction they had come from. It didn't take them long to realize that Steven and Andrew were hot on their heels, ready to assist as soon as they reached the scene.

Just as they rounded a corner and were about to go down into a ravine that went through the middle of the city, Andrew was suddenly shouting at everyone, pleading for them to all stop.

"You guys, stop, seriously!" Andrew barked, his hands cupped around his mouth, "Shane, you too! Just for two seconds!" Shane reluctantly slowed down, holding a branch as if he would continue running if not for it holding him back.

"What is it?" Steven asked, bent over his knees to catch his breath.

"There was something explosive over here. What if it's toxic?"

"We gotta take precautions," Ryan piped up.

Shane was becoming impatient: "We have to go  _now_. If there were bombs here, there must have been people around the area... why else would they be set off?" Ryan slid down to where he was, aggressively grabbing his forearm. He tugged it towards himself, jolting Shane so that his face was within close proximity of his.

"Shane, you  _gotta_ stay level-headed. You're a  _policeman_ , for fuck's sake; don't do anything stupid. There's gotta be  _something_ we could do before you go and risk your life by being exposed to any serious toxins. Not only that, but also the possibility of other explosives in the area." He was whispering angrily at him, narrowed eyes boring into Shane's. Shane was glancing everywhere else but him, inhaling exasperatedly. 

"Look, I don't know  _why_ you'd care so much, but it's only temporary - plus, I'm  _supposed_ to be helping others whatever the cost-"

"Hey, will these help?" Steven placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder, pulling him away from Shane. Shane sighed in frustrated relief, slightly grateful for Steven's intervention so he could continue. Ryan seemed kind of pissed. That being said, both of their faces relaxed slightly when they saw the handkerchiefs Steven was holding up in his free hand. They each took one, and gingerly held it near their faces. "I'll stay back and try to contact Sara and Bennett, but you guys go ahead with Andrew and see if there's anything that needs attending to." He smiled softly, slightly strained.

Ryan huffed: "It helps a little, I guess."

"Let's go then," Andrew said as he trotted right past them, only breaking into a run once Ryan and Shane joined him again.

Once they were properly down in the ravine, they could see just what damage had been caused. The flashlights in their hands shed light across every surface, making the scene seem probably more eerie than it actually was. There was freshly overturned dirt and dips in the land everywhere around the stream down the middle of the ravine, obviously from whatever the explosion was. There was an old tool-shed hidden in some brush, half of it crumpling from the effects of the event. Each officer was already going to check something different about the scene.

"There's probably going to be some contaminants in the water... does Mercy use groundwater for drinking?" Ryan had crouched down by the stream, pointing his flashlight down at an explosion site.

"Yeah." Shane couldn't see Andrew out of the corner of his eye, but he sounded closer to him than Ryan. "We'll have to put the entire city on alert," he commented briefly, then lowering his voice to speak directly into his walkie-talkie. Shane vaguely heard something about city water and stocking up stores with bottled water for a while just in case. There was static and a lot of movement in the radio while Andrew had it on, and even Steven's voice, replying to Andrew calmly.

Shane had taken it upon himself to inspect the shed. It was rather small, and there was only one wall left standing anyways. It was pretty much a pile of old wood at this point. There really wasn't any significant about it. As Shane crouched over to sift carefully through some of the debris for any evidence, he held Steven's handkerchief close against his face, balancing his flashlight on random surfaces. There was some dust that rose as he moved, but whatever the explosive was, it was probably odorless. Shane tapped into his own radio.

"Bennett? Bennett, are you there?  _Anyone_? Adam?" There was some static, but Shane waited patiently, sifting through what was in front of him just in case he missed something.

A voice crackled through:  _"Shane?"_

"Hey, Adam - I'm at the explosive site right now with Andrew and Ryan. There's a tool shed, but that's it regarding structures. We haven't been able to find anything yet - the tool shed is empty, for all I know."

 _"Do you have any more evidence?"_  The voice was cut off abruptly at the end as they finished speaking. 

"Not yet. Have you sent anyone yet?"

_"Sara should almost be there. People from the lab are on their way as we speak."_

"Thanks Adam," Shane quipped, quickly turning off his radio. He turned to go join his coworkers.

"Something doesn't feel right," Ryan said immediately, "I feel sick."

"Maybe you were thirsty before, then," Shane deadpanned.

Ryan shook his head: "No. No, I'm not, I'm fine it's just... it's just... this situation. I feel like something bad is going to happen- or has already happened, even. I don't want to be as dramatic and say I want to throw up, but I just feel really fucking uncomfortable right now."

"Hey, Ryan, look at me," Shane said quickly, angling Ryan to face him, "It's going to be fine. We'll settle this really soon. There haven't been any fatalities, right? We just need to watch the drinking water and it'll be okay. That's just a feeling, it's stupid. Don't listen to it."

Ryan glanced up at him: "And you don't let down your handkerchief." His eyes were sparkling, the only giveaway that he was grinning behind his own handkerchief.

Andrew, on the other hand, didn't seem as relaxed. He was holding his handkerchief tightly against his face, rubbing his cheek in thought. 

"I don't get it. Why is there nothing here? Why did Bennett send us here? Wouldn't it be really suspicious?" 

"What do you mean...?" Shane started slowly.

"Well... first there's Bergara, who just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night offering to help-"

"He's an FBI agent, Andrew," he assured, "He's got the team's trust. He's working for us right now."

"And... well... and you! Bennett still suspects you because of the note! And-"

"That's true," Ryan pointed out, before being interrupted by Shane.

"Andrew?" He squinted his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Andrew took a deep breath, or as much of one as he could take with a piece of cloth in front of his face. "Yes, I am, sorry. That wasn't very like me, was it?"

"No. No, it wasn't."

"Right." Andrew closed his eyes for a few seconds to regain himself. "I haven't gotten that much sleep lately. Ignore me."

"Right."

Suddenly, both of their radios were crackling to life again, Bennett's voice ringing through it steady and clear. Shane almost wanted to be surprised at how calm he sounded, but in reality it was nothing new.

_"Madej. Bergara. Return to the bar immediately. We need you back ASAP."_

"Wait, what happened?" Shane felt an unwelcome feeling crawl up into his chest.

 _"Just run back. Ilnyckyj, Lim and Rubin are going to be at your site very soon. The case has gotten worse, and we need all hands on deck right now."_  His voice ended as soon as the channel did and left all of them with a sickly sense of displeasure. 

"Fuck, Shane, let's just  _go_ ," Ryan urged, grabbing Shane's arm and pulling.

"What does he want this time?" he muttered angrily, shining his flashlight across the trees in the direction they had to go back, "Last time something like this happened, I was half accused for murder."

"Just go, Shane," Andrew pushed, seeming rather impatient himself, "I'll hold down the fort. You heard: Steven and Sara are going to be here soon anyways."

"...  _Fine_. God, I'm going to sleep for a good week once this is all over." Shane pulled his arm back, but jogged ahead, not looking back to see if Ryan was following him. While they were exiting the ravine, they passed Steven and Sara, both of whom had masks on their faces now. They nodded at each other in acknowledgment as they passed.

It wasn't long before they reached the well-lit streets again. From then on, it was slightly easier to run, and it didn't take them long for them to reach the bar again. It seemed quiet from the outside - perhaps Chief Bennett had done a really good job of keeping everyone under control.

Bursting through the door and having it slam closed behind them, they were both surprised to see the bar mostly empty. Bennett was leaning against the piano, arms crossed and eyebrows knitted as he spoke into his radio. Another officer - Jen - was watching Bennett, waiting for further instructions. Shane cleared his throat.

"Chief? What was it that you wanted?" He walked all the way down to him, stopping once he was sure he was in his line of vision. Bennett barely acknowledged him before pointing over to where the bar was. Shane went over to an open bag on the piano bench to grab some disposable gloves and put them on before even moving to where Bennett had indicated.

Just before he moved over to go see what he was pointing at, Ryan pressed into his side slightly. He was staring at Jen, his face blank of emotion. When Shane glanced at Jen, he realized that she was staring really hard at Ryan, her eyes narrowed. Just before he was going to explain what Ryan's job was, she raised an eyebrow and looked away, her concentration shifting back to Brent.

It was suddenly obvious as to why Bennett had called them back so suddenly when Shane saw the two slumped figures on the bar stools. They weren't moving whatsoever, and when Shane went to go check their pulses and breathing, it turned out they were completely dead rather than simply unconscious. 

"There's... there's someone else over here too." There was a crack in Ryan's voice at his displeasure. He was staring down behind the bar, face scrunched up. His voice was almost down to a whisper. "It's the... the waitress we had earlier."

"Wait, fuck, what? What the fuck?  _Her?_ " Shane went around to check himself, and found her twisted body on the floor. She was different than the rest of the bodies: she was laying in a pool of her own blood, tears in her shirt showing where she had been stabbed. Shane covered his mouth with his arm. Even in his current state, he just couldn't take his eyes away from her dead body.

"Jesus fuck, how did the person get away with all of this shit so quickly?" Ryan muttered, "Would you rather me look at her?" 

"No, no, I'm fine- I'm just...  _fuck_ ," Shane shook his head quickly, swallowing his thoughts and heartbeat.  _Sure_ , they had just seen her earlier, but Shane had seen her almost  _every time he went here._

"Do you think the murderer really is against you?" Ryan asked tentatively. Instead of inspecting the other bodies, he was leaning up against the bar, watching Shane carefully.

"I don't fucking know."

"Were they here tonight, maybe?"

_"I don't fucking know."_

"..."

"Look, I don't even know either of the other two victims."

"Perhaps they were just unlucky and the killer wanted to throw us off-"

"No way," Shane cut in, "They weren't stabbed. They must have been poisoned beforehand. There was probably even more thought put into their deaths than hers."

"And you don't know them?"

"I don't."

Ryan sighed in defeat, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. "God, I knew my bad feeling meant something. I just didn't realize how bad it was going to be."

"Well at least the world isn't ending," Shane smiled weakly.  _Or, at least, he hoped it wasn't._  "Oh, fuck, I found it." Ryan stood up a little straighter to peer over Shane's shoulder.

Shane rummaged around a bit in the waitress' shirt before slowly sliding something out. One of the ends was slightly tinted with blood, but in his hand was a neatly braided sweetgrass cross. Shane could just barely hear Ryan's breath hitch.

"Oh."

"I know, right?" Shane smirked, twirling it around. He placed it gently back on her chest. "We should get that sealed up really soon. At least we definitely know who it is now."

"The same person who killed Eliza Chang."

"Yep. We should check the other bodies too, just in case."

It was smart to do so, because it didn't take that much careful rummaging before Shane revealed two more sweetgrass crosses. By the time they were relatively satisfied with their inspection of the bodies, some of the lab workers from the morgue had already arrived to take pictures of the crime scene and seal evidence.

"Hey, Chief," Shane started, peeling off his gloves as he walked up to Brent, "Where is everyone else?"

"We let them evacuate. We couldn't risk anyone else being taken hostage or killed."

"Wouldn't that have made it worse?"

Bennett glared at him, almost making Shane's skin crawl: "Look,  _Madej_ , it's the best I could have done. It was either let the killer loose, or keep them in here and have a morbid, real life game of Mafia. Plus, all of you guys were gone except for me and Jen."

"Well, have you managed to look at the security camera footage at least?" Ryan offered, "It would at least give you some idea of who did it."

"No," Brent was rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and sounding exhausted, "Jen went and checked it for me, as did Adam. Someone hacked into the system and interrupted the signal. The feed turns off about five minutes before the bomb went off. Turns out the bomb was just a distraction anyways. The team still hasn't found anything at the site."

"Did they ever find out what it was?"

"Trinitrotoluene. They're trying to take up precautions as quickly as they can, but because so much has happened at once and it's rather late, it's not going as fast as we'd like."

"Where the fuck did they even get trinitrotoluene?" Shane murmured, absently listening to Brent's radio turn on and off as different officers voices spoke through it.

"We'll have to look into it. We'll have to look into a lot of things."

"Pardon me for asking," Ryan began hesitantly, "But are you relatively okay with Shane investigating now? You don't seem... as concerned about him looking at evidence."

"I don't know what to think, Bergara." He was scratching his head, ruffling his hair up. "I don't know what to think of at this point. It's been too soon since the last murder, and now we've suddenly got three more on our hands. I had Madej in my sights the entire night, so I know it wasn't him I just..."

"We'll try and figure this out when we get back to the office, okay Chief?" Shane assured, "All I know is that I'm going to need a fucking shit ton of coffee to keep me going and get the most important stuff out of the way first."

Ryan winked at him: "I've got that covered, officer." Shane couldn't help but bark out a laugh, and even Bennett cracked a small smile.

"He's our new coffee runner, sir," Shane explained to Bennett, earning a punch in the arm from Ryan. They had a good laugh or two, taking deep breaths after to clear their minds.

"Let's solve this fucker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look if anyone is willing to beta this fic thatd be AMAZING cause if yall cant tell im just posting these right away and am kinda too tired to edit sooooooo uh yeah :-)


	5. And the Cat Hides Well from the Mouse Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so.... to be fair.... i've done accidental hiatuses for over 3 months.... please dont worry about me giving up this fic, i'm way too immersed in it lol (ive gotten a few comments about that so just fyi for the future). plus i know finals just finished, but my new semester is going to be impossibly more packed so i'll do my best to get any writing done at all then :^) oh!! also.... if you've noticed, the spaces are slightly wonky cause ive changed to using google docs rather than wattpad wips lol.
> 
> also, huge thanks to my new beta nina [(@bergarASS)](https://bergarass.tumblr.com/)!!! shes sweet af and her blog is super cool i recommend you go check it out ;-)
> 
> also looks like the chapters are hopefully gradually getting longer too so i guess there's that..........

 

_“You said it went smoothly, Raziel.”_

_“It did go smoothly,” he asserted calmly, crossing his arms. “I just didn’t know that he came along.”_

_“I thought he stayed behind.”_

_“I did too! Abbadon saw him as well.”_

_“He was there,” she interfered, speaking from the shadows. Her figure was slouched against the cold wall. “I did not get as much exposure as Raziel did though.”_

_“I did not know his motive. He was close with his subject again. I did not have a chance to speak with him alone.”_

_“I can never tell if you are very good at acting or are constantly on the verge of breaking your facade,” she sneered. Raziel sternly glared back at her._

_“Shut your mouths!” the first voice barked. “At least the two of you are more reliable than him. Beoji is going to be here in a few moments and yet he has still not shown his face.”_

_“Cassiel said he was still checking the monitors,” Abbadon said smoothly._

_“Whatever,” Raziel scoffed, “We all know Beoji picks favorites.”_

_“He is the oldest. Of course he is going to be the favorite.”_

_“Yeah. That’s the only reason why we’re here in the first place,” he spits. Abbadon narrows her eyes at him. The host of the first voice ignores the entire interaction, opting to stare at the closed door instead. “And how about you, Raphael? Were you successful?”_

_“Of course,” the first voice replies, “I’ve been trained longer than you to stick to my job.”_

_“Don’t mock me. You couldn’t do my job if you tried. Plus you were saved only right before me.”_

_“I was younger in age. And stop your petty bickering, both of you; Beoji will not be pleased.”_

_“And you, Abbadon?”_

_“Successful. Of course.”_

_“I saw her handiwork. She is the perfect soldier,” Raphael commented lightly. Raziel glared at the two of them._

_The tension only barely subsided when echoing footsteps sounded on the other side of the heavy door. With incredible fluidity and routine, the three lined up horizontally, standing stock still and stoic like cadets as they awaited the newcomer’s arrival. None of them dared to even bat an eyelash._

_Whoever the newcomer was remained dramatic as if on purpose. Perhaps it was on purpose, but none of the three ever questioned the thought. Each footstep was slow, and they could practically hear the polished black shoes smartly press against the floor and squeak. The heavy door opened sluggishly and dragged out the newcomer’s entrance. Still, the three held their stances as if they were marble statues._

_The man that marched in had an awesome aura around him. It was so intensely intimidating and dangerous that it almost suffocated the three standing in front of him. The man pulled off his expensive sunglasses from his face, tucking them in a pocket on his expensive long black coat. His eyes were already scanning everyone else in the room - cool, calm, and calculating._

_“Where is Cassiel?” he mused. His voice was smooth and lightly amused. One of his hands had come up to stroke his five-o’clock shadow with a pointer finger and thumb._

_“Checking the systems, Abeoji,” Raphael reported professionally. “Under his own volition.”_

_“I see. Well, no matter,” Beoji sneered, “He has good reason to.” He strutted around the group, opting to gradually take off his outerwear and place them on an adjacent coat hanger. The group still didn’t move a muscle. “And the operation?”_

_“Successful,” Abbadon announced, “No missteps.” Only Raziel’s eyes moved to look at her, knowing that his back was to Beoji. Abbadon didn’t dare return the glance._

_“Very well,” Beoji decided, “You may relax.” The three immediately let their shoulders drop and turned around. Beoji had already situated himself on a throne-like structure at the back of the room. “You are family, after all.”_

_“Any news?” Raziel spoke up. As bleak and empty as Beoji’s eyes were, they lit up with a certain wicked excitement, and the corners of his mouths lifted ever so slightly._

_“This is going to be a very interesting mission.”_

 

* * *

 

Shane desperately needed to sleep, but the way the case was heading he probably was never going to get a peaceful rest ever again. The least he should be allowed was to be dozing off leaning back in his chair. Unfortunately, life was not feeling as kind when he felt a stinging flick on his forehead, jolting him awake again.

“If you’re really falling asleep this much, you might actually be poisoned.” Ryan’s mildly amused but slightly concerned and upside-down face was staring down at him. Shane groaned, half-heartedly trying to swat him away as he sat back up in his chair again. “I’m just saying, I still think you should go get yourself checked at the hospital or something.”

“I’m fine,” grumbled Shane. He moved around some of the files on his desk to pretend like he had been working, “Trinitrotoluene is probably only dangerous in large and extensive contents, and we were only at the scene for a few minutes.”

“It was more than that…”

“And then what about you? You were exposed to it just about as long as I was, and you’re doing fine and dandy.” Shane swivelled around in his chair and poked his coworker in the chest.

“I don’t need a doctor,” Ryan smiled sweetly, pushing away Shane’s prodding finger.

He stood up. “Yeah, well I need a fucking coffee.”

“ _No_ ... what _you_ need is a _nice, long nap._ ”

“You’re right. I’m so glad I can do that right now while I’m in the middle of all of this work.”

“What work? You haven’t turned that page for the past hour.”

“...I was analyzing the page.”

“The… title page?”

Shane’s nose wrinkled at Ryan’s mere presence. “Oh, fuck off.” Ryan laughed. Shane would have shoved him, but he was so tired he probably would have fallen over in the process.

“Just sleep for a bit on the couch in the breakroom. You being well rested is going to get a lot more work done than you falling asleep every second and lying to me. I promise the couch is very comfortable.”

“You’re an absolute shithead,” Shane murmured, dragging himself away to the breakroom.

“Oh, me? A shithead?” Ryan said in disbelief, “I was going to cover for you and at least organize the files for you, and you’re calling me a shithead? God… don’t leave that couch until you leave your grumpy ass behind.”

“So like… all of me?”

“You’re never this bad, _Jesus_.”

“How come you aren't tired at all? Are you even human?” Ryan narrowed his eyes at the question, intention not quite clear behind them. Shane shrugged and mumbled gibberish under his breath, turning to actually leave. He heard Ryan sigh behind him and the soft squish of the cushions on his chair.

As tired as Shane was, he wasn’t _quite_ ready to sleep yet. Now that he didn’t have anything in his hands, his brain started buzzing full of the new information that had been given to him overnight. He briefly scanned the break room, and despite it being empty for the moment, the counter and table were littered with empty dishes and partially full food containers. Pouting, Shane weighed his option of getting a bite to eat first. Instead of moving to prepare himself anything, however, his overwhelming need to sit down took over, and before he knew it, he was laying against the softer-than-he-remembered cushions of one of the couches there. His brain made a feeble attempt at suggesting he take out his phone before he zonked out, but before he could even open it, his phone fell between his face and cushion as he promptly passed out.

It seemed like seconds later that he was slowly blinking his way out of his coma. Drool had slid out of the corner of his mouth and was soaking into the couch and smearing on his phone screen. Yawning, he curled up further under whatever his blanket covered of him. A few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt.

_Hold up._

Blinking again to get the sleep out of his eyes, Shane shifted around onto his back. _He didn’t have a blanket before_. Confused and still partially dazed, he looked down to see a tan trench coat draped across his torso. He pinched an edge with a thumb and pointer finger, lifting it and peering at it before glancing around the room.

“Awake yet, sleeping beauty?” Ryan’s smug face was currently sitting at the break room table, papers strewn about in front of him. Shane scowled at him before turning over and pulling the trench coat up to his chin. He could hear his coworker laughing at him behind his back. “Got a bit of something there? On your phone and in the couch?” His laughing began to cease when Shane still didn’t move. There was a shuffling of papers and a final sigh.

“What time is it?” Shane grumbled, barely audible. It was getting tougher to breath with his face in a cushion, so he rolled over to get some fresh air again.

“Almost 1:00. You slept for a few hours, but I guess that should do for now.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve organized some of the files you were looking at, if that helps at all.”

“Hm.”

“I haven’t found anything yet, but you’re the one who worked on the cases. I just brought them all here cause I thought it’d be easier for us to dissect them all here.”

“Hm.”

“Get up you lazy asshole. I’m not doing all of your work for you.”

“Why the fuck did you think it would be easier to review them here?”

“Oh my god, Grumpy Face. Maybe I’ll offer your lunch to your poor hungry coworkers. I see Chief Bennett has been working his ass off as of late.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

Their conversation was interrupted by an embarrassingly loud growl from Shane’s stomach. He didn’t bother to move, refusing to look at Ryan in the face.

“Alright, _not-that-hungry_ , whatever you say.” Shane groaned at Ryan’s sarcastic remark. “Plus I thought you were the one who was so eager to take a look at the case files.”

Awake enough at this point, Shane rolled over until he was sitting up, wiping his mouth and then phone screen on his sleeve. A squeak of a chair being pulled across the floor sounded, but Shane paid little attention to it. He stretched like a cat after a long nap, trying to get all the extra kinks out of his spine from how he had been sleeping on the couch. Trenchcoat in his hands, he sauntered over to where Ryan had his back to him, pouring coffee into a mug.

“Feeling better?” he hummed, holding out his palm without taking his eyes off of his task. Shane glanced down to it, and then trailed his eyes all the way up his arm. Since Ryan had taken off his coat, he was left to wearing a tucked-in white button up, which fitted him nicely and teased the fact that he was probably ripped underneath all of his layers, not to mention with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Which should be expected, as an officer, but it was still rather impressive. He hadn’t gotten any hint of it earlier since Ryan was still wearing his work clothes at the bar. Shane’s eyes surprisingly didn’t stop there, and casually noticed the loose black tie around his neck. His hair was also a tiny bit ruffled, so he had obviously been fidgeting as he worked.

“Much, thank you,” he replied with his usual snarkiness, tugging his hand gripping the trenchcoat away as he pulled back to connect a stinging high-five to Ryan’s palm with his free hand. Ryan didn’t flinch, but he still sighed in complete resignation.

“Glad to know the usual Shane is back.”

“How would you know how I usually am? Isn’t this our second day working together?”

Ryan pouted, squinting as he tried to figure out his own words himself. He slid over the finished cup of coffee to Shane and tapped his finger on the countertop as he continued to think. “I dunno, man. You just radiate ‘ _irritating’_.”

“Why thank you so much, my beloved coworker. I feel so honoured to hear such kind words from you.”

“You just love proving my point, don’t you?”

Shane smiled around a sip of his coffee, hiding his surprise at how well it satisfied his tastes. “And how about you? You’re not tired at all?”

“No, I’m doing fine for now.”

“Really? Haven’t you been awake for the same amount of time as I have?”

“Probably. I dunno - I think I’m used to being awake for longer hours.”

“You were pretty tired earlier… well, I guess that would technically be _yesterday_.”

“I barely remembered what happened then. Maybe I really did just go unconscious while you were gone.”

“Seems to help.” Shane gestured back over to the table where all the papers were. “Ready to get back to work?”

“Not yet,” Ryan considered, moving back over to the counters to grab a bag of some sort, “Unless you didn’t want to eat?”

“You don’t have to keep on spending money on me, you know,” Shane commented as he watched his coworker take what looked like a small pot pie and quiche from the bakery paper bag to the microwave.

“Why not?” he shrugged, “It’s the best of help I can be of right now.”

“You’ve done plenty else.”

“Not yet-”

“Yeah, you have.”

Ryan turned around with his arms crossed as the microwave whirred to life, staring at Shane with an expression he couldn’t read. Instead of saying anything, Shane stared him dead in the eye and tried putting the tan trenchcoat in his arms on himself, it easily being able to slip on him since he was still wearing a light shirt from the evening before. He couldn’t decide if Ryan looked tired or on the verge of tears (probably of laughter) when he saw how Shane’s wrists were way out of the sleeves and how the end of the coat barely covered his bum.

“Anyway, I get to pick which one I’m eating,” Shane announced, fully knowing how stupid he looked in Ryan’s trench coat. Ryan gave him a weird look.

“They’re both for you.”

“... Are you sure you don’t want any? You… you don’t eat that much, do you?” Another odd look flitted across Ryan’s face again at Shane’s words, but he was barely able to catch it as he had spun around again at the microwave beeping.

“Well you should probably eat both of them rather quickly, or at least try and not make a mess of them on the files.”

“Alright, shortcakes.”

“God, I’d thought you dropped that one.”

“Never,” he grinned, taking the trenchcoat off and throwing it so that it landed over Ryan’s head as he still had his back turned to Shane’s lunch. Shane guffawed at his lack of reaction, stepping back to sit in Ryan’s seat.

“I don’t even know why I’m putting up with you on this.”

“I heard a Fed volunteered you for this case,” Shane lightly said, beginning to flip through a few of the case files. He barely heard the _‘oh fuck you_ ’ mumbled behind his back. The balled up trench coat soared over his head and landed directly onto the couch.

“I hope this burns your mouth.”

“Love you too.”

There was no comment further, which Shane almost didn’t notice until a plate with warm baked goods was plopped down in front of him beside his coffee. Another chair was pulled back, and he could hear Ryan join him, silently staring over his shoulder.

“I didn’t find anything really,” Ryan finally spoke up after a while. Shane took a good bite out of the quiche as he continued to read the case folder open in front of him. “But then again, I don’t think I know what I was looking for. You were the one on all of the scenes, correct?” Shane nodded.

“Well, we were talking about the sweetgrass crosses before, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh, and speaking of, how are… well… the newest victims?” His face screwed up into a grimace, and there was suddenly a consolidating hand on his arm.

“Sara has them in the morgue already. I know her team went to sleep as soon as they could, but they’re probably awake by now to do the autopsies.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Shane mumbled, absently flipping through the pages that were a lot more boring, “It’s like they’re trying to tire out the entire department. Glad we have you on our side.” He glanced over to see Ryan giving him a questioning look in return, so Shane turned back to his files without saying anything else.

“See, here in the medical records,” Shane continued on, pointing out different areas on different papers, “This victim shows no past of depression. Hell, not even in the family. We even have the interviews here with family and friends saying that they weren’t depressed at all.”

“And how did this person die?”

Shane flipped back a few pages, searching for the information he wanted. “Found hanging over a ledge beside a staircase in their own home.”

“You really kept quite a few records of these suicides.”

He shrugged. “The department has mistaken homicides for suicides before - more obvious though, of course. And especially since there was a gradual increase in them, Daysha wanted to be sure and started making slightly better records. And thank god she did.”

“Daysha…?”

“She works at the front and with filing with Adam. We do bring her along on some patrols or calls though if we’re particularly busy. She’s mostly trained.”

“Mostly, huh.”

“Never finished it for some reason or another. We told her she could have the job here filing and whatnot, and she seemed happy with it. She also works really well on-scene anyways, so Bennett doesn’t care.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen her yet.”

“Don’t worry - you’ll probably see her at one point or another. She can get pretty loud, but she’s really nice and cheery to be around.”

“That’s good. But you were saying about the suicides…?”

“Oh, right-”

At that moment, the break room door unceremoniously opened. The two stared at the newcomer with rather bored faces, comically unflinching for the entire situation unfolding at hand. Steven stood at the entrance, actually making an effort to close the door behind him with slightly more grace.

“Oh?” he pried, coming over to try and see what they were looking at, “And what are you two doing here of all places?”

“Eating,” Shane deadpanned, reaching for his pot pie, “And being productive. And what are you doing?” The two watched in amusement as Steven went around to some of the open snacks on the table. They honestly did not know what to say when Steven went for the chocolate box, and took not just a few chocolates but the entire top layer with him.

“Andrew is going to be devastated if he comes back and finds out all of the good chocolates are gone,” he cheerily explained, also grabbing what was left of a bag of unshelled pistachios too. “He’s had a rough night, so I may as well try and be nice to him.”

“Are you sure you’re not just stealing those all for yourself?”

“I’m sure,” Steven sing-songed, already walking back out of the door.

“You don’t sound very convincing!” Shane shouted back, the break room door closing before he finished his phrase. Turning back to his job at hand, he could see Ryan seemed rather bemused. “Anyway… about the suicides-”

“Oh, right… the suicides. Were there… any connections to them?”

“Not that we could find yet,” Shane flipped through a few of the pages again, “Some of them had been convicted of some of the more serious crimes in Mercy who had not been caught or who had been released already, but then this girl died-” he lifted up the entire folder, “And there was just no connection to them anymore.”

“Maybe hers was an outlier?”

“Possibly, but then the next few were similar to hers as well. There were a few cases with depression, but not as many compared to as usual, and they were scattered around all of the cases.”

“Huh, that’s weird.” Ryan took one of the folders himself, slowly scanning through the records.

“And this girl I knew too,” Shane gestured back at his own folder, regret slightly tingeing his voice, “She worked at the coffee shop just down the street… where they made these. She always tried to guess what I was going to order that day and had the brightest smile every time I entered the shop.” Reminiscing, he frowned at the pages of her file as if they were keeping something from him. “I would never have guessed she could have possibly been depressed either. Then again, I suppose I didn’t know her as well anyhow.”

“Well you said the interview claimed she didn’t show any signs of depression or mental illness in her personal life.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I dunno… why is this another person I know that has become a victim of… whatever this is? I don’t know them well enough that the murderer could have possibly been doing this on purpose but it… it still affects the whole city.”

“What were you looking for before?” Ryan asked, staring at his own file. He was browsing the medical records, which also didn’t have any signs of mental illness either.

“Well, I guess the one thing we were looking for was the crosses… but here it doesn’t say there was anything like that in the body!”

“Hm… yeah, it doesn’t say anything like that on this case either.”

“There’s barely anything written on the case to make it seem like there was anything unusual…”

“What about the surroundings?”

Shane’s eyes widened suddenly, a thought briefly passing through him. Gasping a tiny _‘oh shit’_ underneath his breath, he started rapidly flipping through the case to the very end of it.

“What?” Ryan pushed, “What did you find?”

“Nothing yet,” Shane murmured, stopping so that all of the photos of the scene were laid out in front of him. Very carefully, he took each in his hands and took apart the entire scene captured on the film. He could still remember being on the scene himself, and could even remember moving around each scene that was shown. It was almost like the still themselves moved from his memory. Pausing on one image, he threw the rest of them down, squinting down to see if what he was looking for was there.

“Did you find it?”

Shane did. Dropping the photo triumphantly, he pointed to a blurry item on the dresser underneath the loft ledge. Ryan was now leaning over his shoulder, trying to get a closer look at just what he was pointing to.

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Ryan whispered disbelievingly. Just above Shane’s finger was some sort of grasses weaved into a cross. It looked almost identical to the ones they had found on scene with the more recent and obvious homicides.

“I fuckin knew it.”

“I can’t believe you’re right about this.”

“Me neither. I don’t know what to do with the information now, though.”

“Yeah, this case too,” Ryan added, slipping a scene photo from the case in front of him. Right beside a vase in a background was the exact same cross. Too bad the houses now had been entirely cleaned out and probably lived in at this point.

“We should probably go through all of them and see if they’re all-”

Shane was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone to his side. Both turned to stare at it, the little caller ID of _Mom_ popping up not a second after it started chiming. Sighing, Shane pushed his chair back to stand and grabbed it.

“Can you do the rest of them for me? I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the rest of the papers scattered across the table. Ryan nodded quickly. Taking one last sip of his coffee, he exited the break room to hopefully find a quieter hallway.

“Hello, Mom?”

_“Shane? Shame on you, you haven’t called me in ages!”_

Shane sighed, leaning back against the adjacent wall. “Is that how you’re greeting me?”

_“Skip the formalities… I’ve been so worried about you! The least you could do was send me a text message.”_

“You worry too much.”

_“And I have every right to! I just heard on the radio about the homicides that are appearing in your town. Your town, of all places!”_

“I’m doing fine, mom. I’m working on the case now. Plus I’m in the police force, I should be the safest.”

_“I call bullshit on that. Won’t the serial killer target you because of that?”_

“Why would they target me of all people?”

_“... Are you sure?”_

He pinched the bridge of his nose, vaguely remembering that he needed to go look for his glasses on his desk after this. “I can’t disclose any information on the case to the public.”

_“Oh my goodness, there’s someone out to kill you, isn’t there?”_

“No, there isn’t,” he desperately tried to calm her wailing. John Novel had only said that they wanted Shane on the case, not that they wanted to _murder_ him.

_“I never should have let you go to Mercy, I knew you would be safer with me…”_

“I am being completely honest here when I say that I’m pretty sure that Chicago is so much more dangerous than Mercy will ever be. Also I’m an adult and probably a lot stronger than you; I can handle this.”

_“You’re so far away though…”_

“Massachusetts isn’t nearly as far as most places.”

_“It’s still a few states over.”_

“Stop moping, mom. I’m not leaving my job just for you.”

_“You’re very rude to your mother.”_

“ _Please_ , mom, this case is very important and I really need to concentrate on it.”

_“With all of that bad things happening across the country and now with you-”_

“Homicides and natural disasters a very different-”

_“It’s like God’s Word is truly happening-”_

“Since when did he say anything like that-”

_“Oh, in one of John’s Books… what was it?”_

Shane almost dropped his phone. His stomach plummeted as his heart rose into his throat. He could barely even mutter a weak _‘what?’_ into the speaker of his phone. Scrambling off the wall and across to his office where his desk was. He could see some of his coworkers eyes land on him, but he ignored them for the time being as he grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.

_“The one where the God tells John of the apocalypse and judgement day-”_ Shane’s mind was whizzing at his mother’s words, and his hand had never moved quicker to scrawl down his thoughts - _“Ah, yes, the Book of Revelations it was, wasn’t it?”_

“Okay, thank you so much mom, it was wonderful talking to you-”

_“What? Shane, don’t you dare think about hanging up on me-”_

“Mom, something extremely important related to the case just came up-”

_“Well, at least you’ll promise that you’ll call me back as soon as you have a minute?”_

“ _Yes_ , I promise. Nice chat, mom. Talk to you later.”

_“Bye, sweetie.”_

He barely let her finish speaking before he hung up, throwing his phone down onto his desk. Standing up, he stared at the paper with his writing in his hands in disbelief.

 

_John Novel_

_↓_

_The Book of John_

_↓_

_Revelations_

 

Running his hands through his hair, he stared at it for a few more seconds. Of course, this could only be a possibility and far-fetched conspiracy, but at this point it was the only thing that made sense if the name was truly supposed to be some sort of code. Of course, there was definitely the entire Book of John, but only Revelations would make sense in this context. After all, if it was about the fate of humanity, then why couldn’t some psychopath take it the wrong way and use it as some sort of inspiration? Well, at least they had a better name than _‘John Novel’_ that they could refer these persons to.

Grabbing the slip of paper, Shane ran around the office again, trying to look for Brent. He noticed that Andrew had, in fact, returned, and was eating the chocolates that Steven had put on his desk.

“Hey, Andrew?”

“Yeah, Shane? What’s the hurry?” he asked, swivelling slowly on his chair as he popped another chocolate into his mouth.

“Sorry, but do you know where Bennett is?”

“Uh… yeah. He’s in his office.” Andrew shot him a questioning look, but didn’t pry any further as Shane turned heel and began making his way to aforementioned office.

Luckily, Shane didn’t have to search for long, as he almost bumped into his employer on his way out of his own office. “Chief!” he exhaled, grabbing him by the shoulder to stop him, “I think I have… well… it’s a theory.”

Bennett glared at him. “We don’t have time for theories. What we need right now is conclusive evidence.”

“Look, can you just listen to me for one second? I just thought of it… well actually, my mom called me and mentioned it and I just tried connecting some dots…”

“Don’t beat around the bush,” he said sternly, leaning back against his closed door with his arms crossed. Shane took a deep breath in and out, handing the paper in his hands to Brent.

“You see… I knew they were using some sort of alias, but I wasn’t sure if they had a specific _meaning_ or what… and with the weird sweetgrass crosses… it makes up for somewhat of a motive too… I’m not sure what, but what if they’re based or inspired by the Book of Revelations… do you even know-”

He held up a hand, temporarily ceasing Shane’s rant. “Yes, I do know what Revelations is about. It’s just… how is this going to further help the case?”

Shane shrugged. “Knowing their motive would be helpful. We can also give the convict a name.”

“They had John Novel before, didn’t they?”

“Yeah but that doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”

Brent looked like he had to contain his laughter. He bit his lip hard as he analyzed Shane in front of him. “Criminals shouldn’t be _‘cool’_ , Madej, it’ll only inflate their ego.”

“Shane’s inflating someone’s ego?” Ryan’s head popped up from nowhere. He still wasn’t wearing his coat, but his tie had been flipped over his shoulder.

“I just had a revelation of sorts,” he sighed, shooting a grin at his choice of words to a very tired Bennett. Instead of acknowledging what came out of Shane’s mouth, Chief Bennett handed Shane’s paper to Ryan. Shane tried to read what he was thinking as he read the paper, but it became increasingly difficult as Ryan’s face grew blank.

“It makes a lot of sense to me,” Ryan murmured, rereading the few words in front of him, “I don’t know why but I have the weirdest feeling that this is right.”

“We don’t make judgements here, Bergara. Only conclusive evidence,” Shane commented in a lower voice. Bennett shot another glare at him. “Oh, Ryan, by the way… did you find anything else?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, still not taking his eyes off the paper, “There were only a handful of ones that didn’t have obvious evidence, but I put them in a pile just in case they did have something to do with the entire affair.”

“Well, I guess I’ll check in with some filing with Adam then,” Shane commented breezily, already making his way over to the front desk.

“Don’t push all of your work onto Bianchi,” Brent called out after him before sighing and leaving to the break room. Ryan ran up to Shane, hand finally falling down to his side as he tucked the paper into a pocket.

“Looks like you’re out of luck,” Ryan whistled, pointing at the empty front desk, “Better try next time.”

“Whatever,” Shane scoffed, going around to the empty seat. He rummaged around the desk drawers to find a sticky note and another pen. “He’s probably just on break.”

Ryan moved to the other side of the desk, leaning his forearms across the cold surface and resting his chin on them as he stared down Shane. “Are you going to actually be nice and do some of Adam’s job for him? Also what happened to this Daysha?”

“She hasn’t been in yet. I think she was taking a few days off.”

“In this economy?”

“I seriously question your sense of humor in times like these.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you think I could pull off being a receptionist?” Shane asked, twirling the pen in between his fingers. He held his chin with his other hand, elbow supported on the desk.

“You’d actually have to work to be considered one.”

“Yeah well…” With miraculous timing, the department phone started to ring, and with a smirk, Shane reached for it. “I’ll show you just how we do things here.” He winked at Ryan, picking up the phone and holding it against his ear, watching the little _recording_ light blink to life on the phone.

“Mercy Police Department, how may I help you?” Shane’s voice was smooth like butter, pitched slightly higher than normal and unusually clear. Ryan raised an eyebrow at him, amused at his utter change of character. _Working in retail while still in college really pays off sometimes._

It wasn’t immediate that the person on the other end of the line spoke, but Shane could already tell something was very off. He dropped the pen with a loud clatter on the table, leaning forward with both of his elbows on the desk surface as if it would help him concentrate.

There was some weird sort of static going on at the other end of the line, but when the speaker actually said anything, their words were almost crystal clear. The strangest part was that their voice had been manipulated by some sort of special filter that is only found in villainous movies. Shane knew he probably wouldn’t have recognized the voice right off the bat anyhow, but now this filter was just going to make it hell for the rest of the department to work with when they went back to analyze the mandatory recording of the call. Shane gulped.

_“Who is speaking?”_


	6. On the Other Side of the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA NOT LATE ~~ironic that only a month is not late smh lucia~~
> 
> Anyways!! I'm excited to share this w yall!! stuff is progressing, _relationships_ are progressing, fun stuff fun stuff.... Oh, and if yall havent noticed yet, I decided to not be boring and actually give the chapters names and while theyre kinda metaphoric?? theyre kinda summaries?? idk i was in english class watchin macbeth while writing them thats why the seem pretentious/may not make sense.
> 
> i also forgot to mention last chapter that like... remember the true crime season 3 promotional photos for bfu?? i was so Shook when i saw them cause they reminded me of this fic and yeah... [this was one of them](https://twitter.com/ryansbergara/status/951952784248553473) i cant for the life of me find the other 2 sourced D:
> 
> once again big thanks to my beta Nina [(tumblr @bergarASS)](https://bergarass.tumblr.com/), whose been extra sweet and extra busy and still took a quick read of the chapter for me!! love u to pieces nina

Everything in Shane dropped. His stomach plummeted, his heartbeat almost stopped - hell, by the clatter of the pen on his desk before it was evident that he had even dropped his pen. Nausea curled tightly in his chest, the dizzying feeling making him have to steady himself on the sturdy surface of the desk in front of him. He had to steel his mind to be able to reply.

“This is… this is Shane Madej speaking.”

The line went quiet. Well... not quite, as there was definitely static beginning to rise and pierce the silence, but whoever was on the other side of the line refrained from responding further. Shane tried to dissect the white noise to see if there was anything behind it, but without proper technical equipment at hand, the proper analyzation would have to wait.

To place his concentration elsewhere, Shane stared at the little blinking red _recording_ light on the phone, suddenly grateful for the mandatory policy to record all calls for possible evidence within the office. He was no doubt going to spend hours later trying to audio analyze the _shit_ out of whatever outcome this call would end up having.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan leaning further over the other side of the desk, studying Shane’s face as if it would reveal the caller themselves. Most of his other coworkers nearest to them were starting to crowd around him at a respectful distance, curious as to why Shane had gotten so serious. He could barely tell that Andrew was burning holes into the phone with his eyes, but then he glanced to another officer that Shane couldn’t quite see and went back to his work once again, unperturbed.

Shane was shocked back into the reality of the situation again once the strange warped voice spoke up again, this time weirdly tentative.

_“Shane.... Madej?”_

“That’s my name,” Shane quipped, surprising himself at his own tone of voice. He barely heard a hitched breath on the other side of the line. Greeted with silence once again, he took to twirling the phone cord around his finger, eyes still on the tiny blinking light. Feeling bold, he decided to try and prompt something else from the mysterious caller. “How may I help you?”

 _“Has Shane Madej been assigned to the case yet?”_ It sounded oddly rehearsed, especially with the implementation of his own name there, but Shane decided not to press it in favour of actually gathering useful information.

He frowned. “I am not able to disclose that information to the public at this time.”

 _“Has Shane Madej been assigned to the case yet?”_ Even though the voice was warped, it was laced with venom in its intensity, unwillingly making Shane tense up. They had sounded more sure of themselves, and seemed to know that they were not leaving the call without this information. Shane’s eyes only left the blinking light to warily glance around the office. He found Chief Bennett rather quickly, realizing he was being scrutinized underneath a stare of his own. Shane’s face scrunched up, trying to read what he was thinking, before slowly starting to enunciate just what he was planning on saying.

“Yes, I have been put on the case, under heavy supervision.”

_“Ah. So you did get our little letter.”_

“... So there are more than just one of you.”

Silence again. Shane couldn’t decide which he preferred, but the static noise put him on edge like nothing else. It felt as if something would emerge from the static and speakers themselves, stabbing Shane right then and there. It was obviously extremely unrealistic of him to think so, but his nerves were definitely telling him otherwise. Clearing his throat quickly, he tried again.

“So... _you_ are John Novel?”

Again, no answer. He would have chalked it up as the caller leaving abruptly, but not only was the static still there, but he also had not heard the line being cut yet. Shane felt oddly controlled. He by no means was leading the conversation, and he didn’t think there was any way to take the reins at this point. Instead of giving up, he tried one last time.

“How about.... _Revelations?_ ” This was far-fetched and was most likely going to look stupid on his end, but it was worth a try.

_“Yes.”_

Shane’s breath caught. His mind was racing and he couldn’t pick one thing to tackle first. He could, of course, go on about the fact that his stupid little theory was actually right, but he still had so much information he needed to dig from this person. Before he could speak up again, however, the caller continued.

_“We are Revelations. I’m surprised you were able to figure that out.”_

“It was mostly luck,” Shane found himself admitting.

_“Well of course. I would have not expected any less of you, Shane.”_

Now it was Shane’s turn to stay silent. He felt sick again. Sick, because why the fuck was this criminal on first-name-term basis already? Even after thinking for however many days there had been since the case had started, he couldn’t find any solid connection he had to this certain case. His hold on the phone was tighter, and even if just slightly, his arms were shaking. It took him too much effort to continue with his little impromptu interrogation.

“What are your motives-” He was interrupted nonetheless.

_“Are we being recorded?”_

Shane had to backtrack a bit, sputtering out a new answer. “Ah, well… yes. It’s policy. We have to do it for… well… future evidence so on.”

 _“Is that right?”_ the other voice mused, _“I thought as much.”_

“Yes, well, that’s how it is,” he rambled. Shane had no idea what else to say, and was largely concerned that this was going to be the end of the conversation. He suspected he had actually gained quite a bit from it, but a part of him was nagging that he could still get so much more. Whoever this criminal was was rather odd in the way they thought. A good portion of serial killers were sociopaths and psychopaths, but the relaxed and familiar manner this individual extruded was strange to say in the least. Shane racked his brain for something smart to say, but he ended up using one of his lesser stupid ones instead of waiting the call out.

“Can I ask for something crazy?”

Shane could see his coworkers shoot him weird looks. Hell, even Ryan was trying his damndest to gouge out his reasoning. He felt utterly ridiculous when laughter pealed from the other side of the speaker as well.

_“Depends on what it is.”_

“Can you....” Shane twirled with the phone cord, mostly out of nerves, “Would it be possible for your group to just… stop killing? Why do you feel the need to do it?” Rather than the words feeling like weights off of his chest, they felt dumber as they left him, and he felt himself be suddenly shrouded in a cloud of shamefulness.

Shane didn’t even know what he was expecting as an answer. Perhaps a _“why”_ , or maybe even a _“no”_ with the line cutting, but definitely not what he heard next.

 _“We cannot simply put a pause to God’s judgement from a simple request.”_ The voice sounded amused, but Shane cringed at the implication that it was God’s Will, confirming his unwanted suspicions. _Boy, did he hate people who misinterpreted texts._

“Are you sure nothing can be arranged?” he added dumbly. His brain wasn’t properly functioning anymore.

_“... Perhaps judgement can be pushed back for a week.”_

Shane couldn’t believe it. It had been such a simple and somewhat stupid request, yet whoever this was had just as easily went through with it. Shane had single-handedly gained some time for their police force to work with. He hadn’t even realized his mouth had fallen open, and had to quickly struggle to respond.

“We- we really appreciate your consideration.”

_“Anything for you, Shane.”_

Shivers ran up and down his spine. Despite having done such a significant act, the apparent loyalty made his mouth run dry, and it felt like he had accidentally eaten an unripe persimmon. He wanted nothing to do with this criminal, and any reminder of his connection made him sick.

“I’m glad I can be of influence,” he forced out. Apparently being courteous would actually help with whatever the outcome of this call and possibly case would be.

There was more silence. It was awkward and tense, and Shane never really knew it was possible to fear silence until then. He became self conscious of his breathing, and gulping suddenly seemed like the loudest and rudest act one could possibly do. The longer the silence dragged on, the more he felt like he was falling apart and wishing he was anywhere but there. He could just end the call now, but that’s not what he was being paid for. Negotiating with criminals wasn’t technically what he was being paid for either, yet here he was.

 _“It was nice to speak with you, Shane.”_ Screw that voice.

“Thank you so much for your… uh… flexibility.”

_“You gave us information, we could give something back.”_

“Yes, well, we really appreciate you guys… not killing anyone else.”

_“Goodbye, Shane. Until later.”_

The line cut off, but Shane still held the receiver in his hand, listening to the line beep as it stayed off the hook.

“We’re holding an emergency meeting in 10 in the break room,” Chief Bennett abruptly announced, violently shaking Shane out of his daze. As Bennett left, Shane tried his best to put the phone back on the hook, only missing the first two times. He could feel himself being scrutinized underneath Ryan’s gaze.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ryan asked slowly.

“Yeah, I’ll,” Shane shakily ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll be fine. It’s not the worst that’s happened.”

He warily noticed that the recording light had finally stopped blinking before he stood up and went back to his desk.

 

* * *

 

“To commence this meeting, we will be discussing the recent phone call between Officer Shane Madej and the organization recently known as Revelations. You may replay the recording, Bianchi.” Bennett’s voice could be higher pitched, but it had returned to a serious growl as he was getting down to business. Shane wouldn’t have been surprised if serious Bennett and Brent were just two completely different people. Not like he had seen _‘Brent’_ that often.

Almost everyone was sitting at the break room table, which was set up for meetings as per usual. Only Jen and Keith from their squadron were gone, having gone on patrol while everyone else discussed the slightly more important case at hand. Them, and Daysha was still away. Not for long, as she had been called back and would arrive hopefully sometime that day or the day after. Shane could see the stress line Chief Bennett’s face, and he knew he was probably going to have to call back some officers like Maycie or Evan to help out with the department. Just simple promotions from being security guards and such. Both Maycie and Evan were the most experienced. After all, they would need all hands on deck at this point.

Bennett was sitting beside him at the head of the table, while Ryan’s now quiet presence was at his other side. Just across from him, Steven was half hidden beside an open laptop, with Andrew at his side. Steven was probably trying to trace the caller’s ID and location from the shared database in the office. Adam was at the other end of the table, his own laptop out, connected to the business call speaker to replay the audio of Shane’s call. He was probably trying to figure out how to manipulate the audio back to how whoever the other speaker’s voice normally sounded, but for now he just played the unedited call. Ned sat in one of the other empty chairs, notepad and pen in hand ready to take notes.

The phone call really wasn't all that long. To Shane, it had felt like hours. Yet the little timer on the phone indicated it lasted no more than 5 minutes. It was hard for him to concentrate on the replay, but he forced himself to focus on the chat, trying to find the nuances not only in that John Novel guy’s voice, but also his own.

The call ended with the dead line, and Shane blinked twice to actually realize it was over. No one had said anything, and had let the tone ring in the air.

“Any observations and conclusions we can come up with?” Bennett’s voice pierced the tension, making everyone else go back to brainstorming on the topic at hand.

“The group calls themselves Revelations, this group verbally confirmed that they were behind the note left at the Elisa Chan murder, the member of this group partially confirmed that at least a portion of their motive was based on their terms of judgement, and by Officer Shane Madej’s terms, they claimed to agree that they would put a hold to their homicidal tendencies for the period of a week,” Ryan stated the obvious from the call. Ned’s pencil was flying across his paper, and Chief Bennett nodded in approval.

“That much is evident from the call. We will have to analyze the voice used in further attempt to come up with conclusions, but for now we should concentrate on the proposition the involved party has agreed to.”

Shane really wanted to snarkily say something about his stupid line that had by some miracle gotten across to this serial killer. Yes, because of Shane, this goddamn serial killer is going to _‘stop killing’_ . _Stop killing his ass_ , how the fuck were they supposed to trust their word? Luckily, Andrew spoke up for him, voice calm and collected and concise.

“Even if this organization is supposed to stop for a week, then what are we going to during this free period?”

Steven piped up before anyone else could answer. “Andrew’s right, but can we even trust that they will stop for a week? These were already such unusual circumstances, and to be readily able to believe that a criminal will pause their agenda just for our police department to get their shit together is pretty absurd.”

“We should probably stay alert, but focus on other aspects of the case,” Ryan inputted. Shane glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, tracing his figure and watching him knead and massage his own forearm as he spoke. A nervous habit, perhaps.

“Any thoughts, Madej?” Bennett had turned the conversation to him, of course.

“No… no, not that many,” he hummed, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses rested. Being able to see clearly now had its benefits, but he was too tired to want to see anything else happen. The week long hiatus better have been an actual thing, because if then Shane was very sure he was going to take a very long nap to try and recover. “I honestly need the break, but we shouldn’t let down our guard.”

“Very well. Fulmer, do you have anything to say about the call?”

“Yes well,” Ned wrote down a few more notes before temporarily putting his pen down, “Whoever was speaking for the organization seemed to recognize or know of Officer Shane Madej beforehand.”

Ah. There it was. Shane felt sick again.

Ned continued. “Even with the note, it’s obvious that they know who Shane is in the first place. Not only that, but throughout the entire call, they spoke with a familiarity as if they have known him before. That, and the fact that it was so easy for Shane to request something like he did and actually accept the proposition.”

“Thank you, Fulmer.” Shane could feel Bennett’s eyes turn on him, digging into him like daggers. “And Madej?”

“Yes, Chief?”

“You still stand by your case that you have had no affiliation with this character before, or even know who they could possibly be?”

Shane wanted to say a lot of things. He wanted to say how nauseous he felt being dragged into the case without even knowing anything about it in the first place. He wanted to say how he didn’t even grow up here, and how there shouldn’t be any reason why he had any role in the case at all. Of course, he had probably already stated all of those thoughts before, and now was definitely not the time to repeat them like a whiny child.

“Yes, Chief.”

“Very well, Madej. I suppose we should wrap up the meeting then and get back to work. Bianchi, could you look into Maycie Thornton, Evan Ghang, Garrett Werner, and Kelsey Impicciche’s files? I want to get more officers to work patrol and help out with the case when we need it. We’re running too low on staff currently to efficiently deal with this case.”

The break room was suddenly filled with the noises of chairs scraping across the floor and the sound of everyone bustling about. Shane was one of the last out of his seat, still trying to wrap his head around everything. The only other people he vaguely noticed that hadn’t moved were Ryan and Andrew. Andrew was halfway out of his seat, but still moving in a rather sluggish manner as he stared at Ryan for some reason. Ryan didn’t seem to notice however, as he was absently staring to the corner of the room. Shane coughed, and both shook themselves out of their trances.

“What, does any of this ring a bell for you or something?” Shane mumbled to his case partner, only for him to hear. Ryan glanced up at him before offering him a tiny smile.

“I don’t think so. It’s just that this case kind of feels weird. It’s hard to explain, but maybe I’ve done a case similar to this before.”

Shane studied him for a few more seconds before deciding to leave him alone. “Alright. You do you.”

Walking a bit quicker to catch up with Bennett, Shane tapped him on the shoulder to catch his attention. Bennett turned, but he still had the same professional face on as he had throughout the meeting. Nothing about it was welcome.

“Madej?”

“Hey, Chief, I was wondering,” Shane began hesitantly, trying to construct a decent argument in his head. Bennett answered for him.

“You mentioned something about needing a break, correct?”

“...Yes, that is correct. Is there any way I can take a few days off while we have this potential temporary hiatus?” Bennett’s gaze seemed to be trying to dig into his very soul, coming up with his own conclusions albeit slower. “I’ve been constantly awake for the past two days, and I want to be able to function properly to solve the rest of this case. Not to mention that if it does escalate from here, it’s going to be necessary that I get more sleep now if I have to lose more later.”

“You may take two days off starting tomorrow,” Bennett finally decided, “But staying on call. After all, even you mentioned that we cannot trust _Revelations_.”

“Thank you so much, Chief. I promise I will work my best until then.”

“Do as much as you can for the rest of the day. Lim says he is close to finding the location, so you can go with him and Ilnyckyj to scope out the area and see if the criminal has left anything behind. You know what you need for those.”

“Yes Chief.”

They nodded at each other before separating. Shane went to grab a donut from the table before returning back to his own desk.

 

* * *

 

Shane had to try his best not to fall asleep in the back seat of the patrol car. He lazily watched trees pass his window as the other two officers chatted absently in the front of the car. It’s not like he wanted to intrude, fully knowing he was going to third-wheel enough already. The buzz of the local radio drowned out most of his friends’ conversation.

Steven had the location his laptop had tracked down open on his phone, and they were currently driving to it. The only thing Shane could tell so far was that it was relatively close to the park where the bomb had gone off, but there didn’t seem to be any important connections to the two quite yet, other than being part of the same case. Shane gave half a thought to going and checking the old scene later to see if there was anything new.

The two up front were actually quiet again, and Steven was turning down the radio volume as they drove up into a relatively isolated gas station. It was near the outskirts of the city, but heavy Massachusetts wood was surrounding the lot and the other side of the main road they were driving on. The gas station itself was pretty dingy, and there were only about 2 half-lit self-serve gas pumps. On the corner of the street next to a bench and a bus stop stood an old payphone in a shelter. Because of how dramatically it had been placed, Shane knew right away that this is where the murderer had made their call. There was no way they did it in the skimpy station, where there would easily be an attendant who could see John Novel’s face. They were smarter than that.

“It’s that phone stand right over there,” Steven confirmed his suspicions. He parked the car efficiently and moved to get himself out. Shane did the same, going to the trunk to find some gloves and any tinier inspection tools he could pocket.

“Do you think the gas attendant saw their face?” Andrew wondered out loud, stretching as best as he could in his dark blue uniform. Steven’s eyes had drifted from his figure over to the tiny store that was advertising for hot coffee.

“Probably,” Steven answered, “We’ll probably go in and interrogate what we can. Do you want anything, Shane?”

Shane glanced up from the bag he was rummaging through. “Huh? What?”

“Any snacks.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be investigating?”

“Yeah, but for after.”

“... Just get me some _BBQ Corn Nuts_ and a big _Toblerone_.”

“A big Toblerone? Are you taking advantage of me paying?”

“Well I deserve it.”

“Whatever. Just go look at the booth and we’ll meet up at some point.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Shane saluted at him mockingly. Steven rolled his eyes before unnecessarily grabbing Andrew’s arm and dragging him away. _Yep_ , Shane thought to himself, _there was definitely something going on between them._

Being left to his own devices as the other two entered the shop was oddly isolating. It was like he was suddenly left in his own bubble, in his own dream world, and society was far away from his very existence, while it was simply on the other side of the thick wood. There was an impending sense of unnerve crawling into his skin, but it was pointless to pay attention to. He shook it off and made his way to the tiny phone booth.

Putting off actually seeing if there was anything significant in the booth, Shane took a quick look at the bus stop and bench. The bench was as typically worn out and graffitied as any, but had minimal disturbance around it. It would be impossible to trace any footsteps because of their lack thereof. Pretty typical of a bus stop, so he finally moved to the phone booth.

There wasn’t any door to the booth but rather an open entrance, so the wood of the old structure was well worn. The booth itself was way more graffitied than the bench, but most of it was old and faded. Shane was careful not to lean against the entrance or any of the walls, almost as if even touching anything would immediately ruin evidence or even make the structure collapse. He set his sights on the old phone mounted on the back wall.

The phone was definitely at least a decade old. One would wonder how it could still work anymore. Although shelf-like structure underneath it was coated full of dust, the phone had been almost completely cleared of dust. The hazy dusk sunlight illuminated the booth, showing paths of glowing specks rising into the air the more Shane moved around. It was not too hard to see, but he would need extra light to be able to investigate properly.

Carefully taking out one of the investigation kits in his pocket, he set the items he needed down on the compact dirt ground under his shoes. After all, if he could snag some fingerprints from this lead, he could very well make this case jump ahead. He had a sneaking suspicion that the perpetrator was using gloves though. They seemed smart enough to not be caught by something so simple having slipped their mind.

Even though he had his own latex gloves on, Shane was very careful to barely touch the phone. He blew away excess powder from its surface, but the fingerprint-detecting power didn’t help in any way either, as most of it just blew right off. The tiny bit that remained was stuck on tiny grease spots that resembled nothing like fingerprints. The criminal had definitely used gloves, and the grease spots were probably from something the wind had blown in. Shane sighed

There wasn’t much in the means of evidence left behind at the scene. Whoever the criminal was was rather thorough. It was as if there were never even there, which couldn’t have been true, as Steven had checked the traced location multiple times. Shane even wondered how the hell they had managed to manipulate their voice to such the extent they did without a bunch of fancy computers. Perhaps there was some sort of interruption on the line they didn’t notice that was manipulating the Revelations representative's voice.

Picking up the phone off of its hook, Shane tried finding any traces of _anything_ on the earpiece and receiver. He was intrigued to find disturbances around the receiver as though there had been something placed around it before it had previously gone back on the hook, but he couldn’t conclude anything further from that. The earpiece didn’t seem to have anything on it, but Shane decided to take a few swabs for DNA or other traces just in case.

Collecting everything he had used back into his pockets once again, he did a much more thorough once over of the booth in case he had missed anything big or small. His flashlight beam only truly helped the areas shrouded in darkness, while the other surfaces that had been illuminated by the dusk sunlight made no difference as the flashlight beam disappeared within them.

Back at the patrol car again, Shane noticed that both Steven and Andrew had already returned, leaning against the car and chatting with each other, laughing about something or another. Shane went directly to the trunk, depositing his unused supplies and the minimal evidence he had actually collected. He shut the trunk with a loud bang, only slightly startling the other two.

“Are you guys back already?” he asked them, amused.

Andrew shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I checked the security feeds while Steven interrogated the clerk.”

“I couldn’t let _Bad Cop_ take this job,” Steven teased, ignoring the tiny glare sent his way, “Plus he barely had anything to say. Even admitted that he was barely paying attention to his job then. I suppose they weren’t acting as suspicious - just taking a phone call before leaving.”

“You can barely see them on camera,” Andrew added, “I got the recordings-” he waved around a USB, “But it’s not much to go off by.”

“Sounds like something at least,” Shane muttered, “I’m going to probably look around a little bit more, but can the two of you just go and check the booth again? I want to say I’ve missed something, and it would be nice to have the extra pairs of eyes just in case.”

“On it. Don’t take too long.”

Shane could probably take as long as he wanted and they wouldn’t notice.

Instead of saying anything snarky, he ended up turning back to the car, looking for spare gloves and a better flashlight. He was pleased to see that his requested snacks were thrown on his seat, waiting for his return. Grabbing a small notebook from a random compartment, he began to take notes on what he had found, and ended up pocketing it in case of finding anything else.

Shutting the car door behind him, Shane took a few moments to appreciate the calming setting around him. Warm orange light pooled into the parking lot, filtered only through the tips of tall trees like how water would through fingertips. Only a tiny breeze was there to disturb his quiet warmth, mussing up his hair. The occasional car would pass, but for the most part the only noise pollution was in the distance, easily blending into the background. Shane probably spaced out for way longer than he had meant to.

His line of vision had drifted back down to the phone booth. The entrance was just in his view, but he could only really see Andrew’s back. Shane spaced out, watching the scene unfold in front of him unblinkingly.

The strangely intimate moment his two coworkers were having on the other side of the lot was both enhanced and complemented by hazy atmosphere and warm orange light. Clunky, dark blue uniforms that they had to wear to be on patrol should have been anything but romantic, yet the way both of his arms seemed to be against the wooden booth wall suggested so. They seemed to be talking now, but damn Shane wouldn’t be surprised if something was finally progressing. He had straight up made deals with other people in the office before concerning Steven and Andrew’s relationship. Perhaps they had actually talked it out now, or were in the process of doing so.

Shane could see someone shift behind Andrew’s figure, and a tuft of whiteish hair peeked from above his shoulder. Andrew’s head was tilting to the side a bit, and his entire body was suddenly leaning forward, pushing into their nearly isolated romantic moment. One of the hands that was against the wall moved so that it slid down the side of something, stopping and squeezing at the waist level and…

_Ah. Of course._

Forcing himself out of his trance, Shane swivelled on a heel and walked in the opposite direction. He wasn’t going to intrude on their oh-so-personal moment any further, and it’s not like he _wanted_ to anyhow. There was a possibility he would hear about it later, but he wouldn’t push it.

Trekking down off the trail, Shane made his way through a tiny opening in the woods that he knew would lead to the creek where the bomb had gone off just the night before. After all, the road they had accessed it in the first place from the piano bar was just on the other side of the wooded area. There were still enough trees that Shane wouldn’t be able to see the gas station once he was far enough, but hopefully he would be able to find his way back once he would need to again.

Dry leaves and sticks crunched underneath his feet, and birds would occasionally chirp around him. The wind would rustle the leaves in the trees, and Shane would inhale the fresh air. It was way too fresh to be in a city and where there had recently been a chemical explosion.

The woods opened up to a field-like area, and just down the hill, Shane could spot the craters where the explosions had gone off. He was about to skid down the hill by the creek until he noticed the undisturbed structure to his side, almost concealed by more trees.

There was an old-fashioned lamp post stood at the top of the hill. It intrigued Shane to no end, how such a mysterious structure was in such a unsuitable place. The lamp post didn’t have any use here. Because of the growing darkness, the lamp post even flickered on right before Shane’s very eyes, its soft glow casting a spell around him. He didn’t even know where the wires were (probably underground), which made it seem all the more magical.

He walked up to it quite slowly, almost as if he made too much noise he would wake something up. Reaching his hand out, his fingertips brushed the cool black steel of its stem, brushing against flaking off paint just to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of mirage. It extruded some weird sense of tranquility that calmed him in these difficult times. He would have sat down and marveled at the strange sight for hours if he wasn’t on the job.

Taking a step back, he realized the fresh scent wafting into his nose was the wild mint at the base of the lamp. It had fanned out quite a bit from there and was dotted around the field a bit more, but it was quite heavily concentrated around the lamp. Not to mention the frail vine curling up and around the post itself, where tiny flowers shaped like gramophone bells bloomed and trumpeted to the wavering sunlight. They were a pretty purple that faded into a white near the center. Shane couldn’t remember the name of the flowers for the life of him. He took a mental note to look it up later.

Tearing his undivided attention away from the lamp post, Shane looked out onto the rest of the field again to take another look at the bombing site. While he refrained from hiking back down there again, he realized that there hadn’t been much change in the setting, other than the hints of humanity that had been there to try and regulate the environment of excessive chemical releases. He could already see how rich in green the plants around the site had already gotten from the excess amounts of nitrogen and carbon dioxide. Maybe the running creek alongside the site could have been affected, but from afar it seemed just fine. The collapsed shack was also still there, partially hidden by trees, and completely unchanged from how Shane had first found it. The fact that Mother Nature had just trudged right along as if nothing had happened was also rather calming to Shane.

At some point as he stood there, Shane noticed with amusement the bush of sweetgrass that had grown by a nearby cypress tree.

The car ride back to the office was a lot quieter than on the way there. Darkness had almost completely fallen. They didn’t get as much evidence as they had wanted, but they had collected all that they could.

Because the atmosphere between his two coworkers had almost completely isolated him, Shane took out his phone to distract himself. Their intimate feelings they were pretty much radiating was something Shane did not want to be a part of, and even though he had taken his phone out on instinct, he stayed at a loss of what he was actually doing until he remembered his own mental note.

Turning on data, he tried his best to describe the flower he had seen just earlier, and was pleased to finally be reminded that it was a morning glory. A tiny ad about plant symbolism additionally piqued his interest, and ended up finding himself on the plant symbolism page on Wikipedia.

Morning glories meant _love in vain_.

And as he scrolled down, he couldn’t help but notice that mint could carry a meaning of _suspicion_.

 

* * *

 

His first day off, Shane spent the entire day sleeping.

His second day off, Shane was exhausted from sleeping so much, and ended up lazing around the house trying to get basic chores done that had been neglected.

At some point during the day, Shane found himself taking a walk out of his house, going to run some errands. There was no more milk or cheese in the fridge, and not to mention a worryingly low supply of fruits and bread. Of course, he automatically made a mandatory stop to the bakery for a coffee on his way to the grocery store.

Just as he missed the light to cross the street, Shane waited at the pedestrian walk, watching the other people finish crossing the street. He absently scanned the crowd on the other side from him, also waiting for the light to change.

Shane recognized a face. He had to blink twice to realize it.

There, on the other side of the street, stood Ryan Bergara. He was dressed in his usual tan trenchcoat, which was unusual for the warm weather outside. Shane tried gesturing at him to try and be acknowledged.

Luckily, Ryan snapped out of his daze quickly, and noticed Shane waving over to him. A bright smile cracked across his face, and he waved back, stepping forward as if ready to run out and greet him as soon as the light changed. No one really paid any mind to him.

Right then, the a bunch of cars suddenly moved, crossing the intersection and creating a wall between them. He was happy to see a new friend on his day off, so Shane watched the countdown on the pedestrian light that would indicate when he could walk again in anticipation.

The cars stopped, and the light changed.

Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

Confused, Shane ran up ahead, trying to search for his missing coworker in the small crowd of other people, yet still came up with nothing. He would have been able to see if he had left or stepped to the side somewhere, which really unsettled Shane.

Trying to convince himself that it was just a trick of the light, Shane took one last glance around before entering the bakery and being greeted with a gust of air conditioning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in addition to music scenes you can also pry plant symbolism from my cold dead hands


	7. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's that time of month again!! (because apparently im updating on a monthly basis now... (╥_╥) )... But you've probably noticed that the chapters are definitely getting longer (this one too!! hoh man) so yeah... Not too much action but I actually have the next 3 chapters planned out!! yay!! (i have the entire plot planned but not each individual chapter, which is unusual for me)
> 
> For this chapter, two songs are mentioned so ill just link em here:  
> -> _Reflections_ by Thelonious Monk ( [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/0seaC0f6ipikMDfhF7VgPA?si=4yFGVTDAS9eRjSQ42aAITQ) / [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-paPGxhqOk) )  
>  -> _So Am I_ by George Gershwin ( **[spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/4BG2tiyGdAY8PWbvXd3587?si=SoL-Ph41Tb2nSZMo4XlerQ)** / [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1I1uUpuoWQ) )
> 
> Also!! ofc, tysm to my amazing beta, Nina ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) )!!!! she helps me out so much with the fic and im eternally grateful for her help <3

_ Wherever Ryan was, the atmosphere felt both too big and too small. It was like he wasn’t supposed to be there, or as if he was floating through some sort of psychedelic dream. _

_ He was definitely in some sort of bedroom. It all seemed quite well-lived in, despite seeming to only host one inhabitant. Some untraceable sense of fondness rose to Ryan’s throat as he paced around. The floor wasn’t too messy, but he could tell the inhabitant did not have anyone to impress either.  _

_ Boy oh boy did Ryan wish his senses were sharper. They were somehow dulled, making everything seem dreary and boring despite being in such a new environment. Some sort of sixth sense in him was vibrating, eager to discuss why the scene had an odd feeling of familiarity to it. Ryan didn’t know why. After all, that sense was also feeble. _

_ Just before he could make his way over to the dresser to admire the photos and knicknacks this person had collected, soft piano notes unexpectedly rang throughout the entire house, filling the air with a gentle sort of jazz that Ryan took an immediate liking to. Awestruck, he made his way over to the bedroom door and out to the hallway.  _

_ Ryan tried his best to be quiet as he went, but found to his surprise that no matter what he did, he probably couldn’t make a noise if he tried. The wood floor paneling should have at least creaked, but Ryan was even quieter than a mouse. Not that he would complain; he wouldn’t want the inhabitant of the small flat to stop playing. _

_ At the very end of the hallway, guarding the front door, sat a slim grey cat. Its glowing eyes were as wide as saucers, unmoving yet judging every move Ryan made. Startled, he checked over his shoulder to see if there was anything in the hallway behind him, before he realized that the cat was staring at him. Slowly turning back to it, he unblinkingly gazed back. Neither of them blinked, simply just wondering the purpose of each other’s presence as the strange but pleasant combinations of piano notes danced around them.  _

_ He barely noticed when the piano stopped, the notes trickling down the keyboard like raindrops until it hit a final low note. The cat hadn’t moved either. Ryan only moved his head suddenly when he heard a familiar voice from a room or two over. _

_ “Monk, huh,” the voice mused. It was somewhat gravelly, so the voice cleared their throat once before continuing. “I was always surprised that you knew that one out of any of mine.” _

_ Ryan glanced back once, just to check if the cat was still there. Perhaps the cat itself was some sort of mirage, or perhaps it had just slinked away while he wasn’t looking. Turning back around, he started walking slightly quicker than before, trying to follow the source of the voice. _

_ “Oh, you know which one was your favourite?” the voice suddenly inquired to themselves, “It was that one Gershwin, wasn’t it? You always did love that song, Ryan: So Am I.” _

_ Ryan was so close to rounding a corner to have the face of the pianist revealed, but stopped dead in his tracks when the first chord rolled out. It was like he had hit a wall, and had to slide down with his back to the door frame edge. The second chord was just a twist of the knife, making his heart expand and feel like it would burst with the absolute beauty of its sound. Just as his butt reached the ground, the song began to progress to a slightly faster but equally as stunning section. It was as if his brain had slowed down the song, just to appreciate every tone and its magnificence.  _

_ There was a lot Ryan needed to dissect from what he had heard previous, yet his head could only be entirely filled with the song. His entire being was enveloped in the song, vibrating full of positive and warm energy. The sound traveled through the wooden floor panels from what sounded like a muffled grand in the room beside him, contributing to this fuzzy feeling of his. _

_ Why were his feelings suddenly so intensified by this one song? Was it because it had some magical quality to it, some secret behind the chords? Was it because it had been quite distinctly dedicated to him? Why was it even dedicated to him in the first place? Ryan barely knew how he had gotten there, much less why.  _

_ Finally, the questions swirling around his head became too much all at once, and Ryan decided that he must see who was playing. Bracing himself, he hugged the door frame as he lifted himself off the ground. He should have been able to put a finger on who the voice that had spoken had belonged to, but his mind was whizzing too fast for him to think of anything straight. Very slowly, he peeked from behind the wall and gripped the drywall as hard as he could.  _

_ The entire room was bathed in a soft orange light from a lamp in the corner of the room. It was piled high to the ceiling with books, and not to mention empty dishes and mugs scattering every surface. The grand piano facing away from him was crammed into the centre of the room, books also stacked on it and propping its lid open just a crack, giving it its sonorous muffled voice.  _

_ Sitting in front of the worn grand piano - with their back to Ryan - was a tall man with short greying hair and a deep navy robe covering his figure. His back was slightly hunched, and he looked down caringly at his hands and keys, perfectly pulling off each melody and harmony and gliss and roll and descant. Each note seemed to be fully owned by this man, since he played as if he knew this piece inside out and backwards. _

_ As carefully as he could, Ryan hugged the door frame, sliding around it so that his back stuck to the wall the entire time. Despite being so close to this man, the man made no indication that he even knew that Ryan was there, which he supposed could be a good thing. At this new angle, he could see his expansive and worn hands delicately stroking each key, playing as many as 10 notes at a time. Fondness grew uncontrollably within Ryan again as he grew more and more impressed with this man’s playing. _

_ The playing began to slow, moving up to a higher register and making the song more delicate than it already was. Moving back down, it slowed down even more, simply ending with an arpeggio all the way up and a tiny top note that twinkled as prettily as a star. The man sighed after a few seconds, gradually bringing his hands back to his lap and leaving them there. He turned his face to the side a bit to reminisce, his features sliding out of shadow and being highlighted by that warm orange glow. The greying beard growing on his face did nothing to mask from Ryan realizing who he was. _

_ Ryan inhaled so quickly it should have made a noise. He was frozen to his spot against the wall like a bug already caught and swatted. The face of the man was far more than simply familiar. _

_ If Shane heard Ryan, he didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he held his arms and shivered a bit, pouting.  _

You always did love that song, Ryan.

_ Shane’s words echoed around Ryan’s head, and all at once he felt the need to move again. Not only did he need to move, but he needed to run. Run away from what felt like a horrible dream, despite the warm and fuzzy feelings it had carried. It felt dangerous. This was something that Ryan wasn’t supposed to see, he was sure of it. _

_ Scrambling around the corner, Ryan sprinted down the hallway, it feeling longer and darker the faster he tried to run. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the cat peering at him from an adjacent room, watching him trying to escape. Paying it no mind, he fled out the front door, not quite aware of whether it was open or shut. _

* * *

All Shane wanted that morning was to have a peaceful day at work, and a ‘peaceful day at work’ doesn’t usually start with Ryan-Frickin’-Bergara ramming himself through the front door on his way in.

“Mind the door,” he called out to him from where he was at Adam’s front desk, irritated. 

Ryan stared up to him from where he was, bent over his knees trying to catch his breath as if he had been running all the way there. The more he stared at Shane, the more horror dawned onto his face. His eyes were wide and his jaw was slack, and confusion seeped into his features. Still, he held eye contact, not blinking or glancing away once. It was as if Ryan was looking deep into Shane’s soul, prying to reach some sort of understanding Shane didn’t know he needed. He stood there, silent, for a concerningly long period of time.

“Cat got your tongue?” he tried again, trying to sound lighthearted but lilting towards slightly concerned.

Ryan still didn’t answer. Instead, seeming to remember something, he reached up to his face with one hand, feeling his stubble as if to check it were still there. His eye contact between them only broke when his eyes dipped down.

Shane almost choked on his own spit.

“Did something important happen?” Adam asked, horn-rimmed glasses barely peeking above his computer monitor. He was Shane’s saving grace, who was currently coughing and gripping onto Adam’s desk for support. When he turned back around again, he saw Ryan blinking owlishly at Adam.

“Not too important, no,” he chewed out slowly. He straightened himself up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants.

“Something wrong?”

“Nope,” he declared, popping the  _ ‘p’ _ . “I just had a bad dream last night, that’s all.”

_ Bad? _ Shane’s stomach dropped. _ It had to do with him, didn’t it. Especially considering the way Ryan had been looking at him when he first came in. _ He really wanted to ask further about it, but…

“Why were you running?” Adam’s monotone voice made the statement rather amusing, but what was almost even more sadistically amusing to Shane was seeing Ryan trying to grasp for excuses. 

“I… thought I was going to be late,” Ryan shrugged, gesturing half-heartedly to a clock on the wall, “Guess not.”

“Well while you’re busy not being late,” Shane huffed, strangely still irritated by Ryan, “I’m going to go get some work done.” He grabbed for the USB stick that was lying by Adam before marching off to his desk. Just barely did he hear Ryan sigh and ask to help Adam with some filing on the case.

* * *

He was probably sitting in a way that was less than professional, but Shane could care less at that point. His arms were hugging his legs, and he somehow found a way to fit all of his limbs on the break room couch. Shane paid no mind to anything else around him except for the call replaying through his headphones, utterly immersing him.

During the two days he was away, Adam had managed to restore the recorded call to the best of his ability, and the other voice was slightly clearer now. Shane had already downloaded it onto his computer from the USB given to him, and put it on his phone so he could listen to it as many times as he wanted to, as he was doing at the moment. At least there had been  _ some  _ progress within the tiny hiatus.

How many days had it been since the start of it all? It felt like weeks, but with a few calculations on his fingers, Shane realized they were only on day five. Not to mention the fact that he was on break for half of that time.  _ There was too much time during the day _ , he thought in disgust.

Shane also realized that it was only day three of what was essentially the eye of the storm. There had been turmoil before, and he had no doubt there would be great turmoil after their peaceful week had ended. 

The recording had just reached the end, pausing for a bit before starting the over from the beginning. For what was probably the millionth time now, Shane listened to his own tense voice and the stern growl of the person he had been talking to.

Now that the man’s voice had been manipulated to be as close to what it actually was, it was almost like the entire call was different. The voice kept their tone in a lower register as if to further conceal it, only wavering in colour at certain things Shane said. Shane quite distinctly remembered Ned’s comment on how the caller seemed to know Shane somehow or another, and he desperately tried to look for familiarity in the voice each time it replayed.

There  _ was  _ something about it that felt familiar, he just couldn’t put his finger to it. Perhaps it was his mind playing him a fool for having listened to it for so long. 

Racking his brain, Shane couldn’t think of anyone he had gotten close to in his life that could do something like this. Of course, Shane was pretty close with a lot of his coworkers, but they were already all ruled out since they were working on the case with him. Then there were the select people that had been his friends back when he was in school, but he did pretty much all of his schooling in Chicago anyhow. It was quite unlikely that any of them would care enough to find him all the way in Mercy. Shane never had a point in his life that would make him at all interesting or suspicious either, which ruled out him being some sort of icon to someone.

The voice would have been soothing to Shane, save for remembering just what they had done and the intentions behind their words. There was probably no way he could untangle himself from the situation now, but that didn’t mean he could avoid wading in any deeper.

_ Anything for you, Shane. _

The break room door slammed open. He glanced up, not surprised to see Steven wandering in.  _ Steven needed to work on entering rooms in a more quiet fashion. _ Shane paused his recording anyway and let his headphones slide down to his neck.

“Hey bud, how’s it goin’?” Steven asked, making his way over to the fridge. “Still listening to the recording?”

“I’m analyzing it.”

“Sure you are.” He popped a set of Hot Pockets into the microwave before leaning against the counter, facing Shane with crossed arms. “You’ve been sitting there for quite a while.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too.”

“How much thinking can you do in a day?”

“A lot, apparently.”

“I guess, for you.”

“Have there been any more finds?”

Steven hummed, looking around the room as if he would find his answer hidden away somewhere. “From the morgue, I’m not sure. You’d have to ask Sara yourself. Here, we haven’t been able to find much either. This Revelations group has concealed their actions too well, and we haven’t uncovered enough evidence yet to figure out just what the hell is going on.”

“I hope the only evidence we get from here on will just be tips.”

“Isn’t that what you said before the bombs went off?”

“Probably. How is it possible that it’s only been almost four days since then?”

“You were on the scene that morning, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Actually, now that I think about it, I guess the case technically starts with the suicides. Have you taken a look at them yet?”

“Yeah, Ryan showed me them after your phone call.”

Shane began laughing out of the blue, his laugh tired and sarcastic. “Can you believe it?”

“Believe what?”

“I managed to get us a break - a break for us to recuperate and figure out shit out and get some progress on this goddamn case for a whole  _ week _ \- and we still haven’t done anything? It’s been  _ three days _ , Steven. Three whole days already.”

“Don’t say that,” Steven scolded, “We still have the rest of today. We’ve gotten some progress on tiny things - baby steps, Shane -”

“We can’t afford to just take baby steps.”

“Not my point. Anyhow, there’s still plenty of time for us to get a big lead. Who knows? Maybe Sara has found something. There’s no reason to be so pessimistic.”

“I applaud you at being my foil, Steven, but it feels like we’ve just hit a big wall at this point.”

“You got two whole days of rest. You’re going to be grateful for those in the future, mark my words.”

Shane stopped staring sullenly at the ground to peek up at his coworker, who was giving him an encouraging smile. The microwave beeped, and Steven turned away from him again.

“How about those new recruits?”

“You mean Maycie, Evan, Garrett, and Kelsey? Our new patrol officers?”

“Yeah, them.”

“You realize they were still officers before, just not patrol officers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. How are they?”

“On patrol right now.” Steven took a bite out of one of his Hot Pockets, chewing slowly in thought before speaking up again. “Since most of us are working on the case now. Or are trying to at least.”

“And how is… how’s…?”

“Officer Bergara?”

Shane pouted. “Yeah, him.”

“Ryan’s been looking through the suicide case files since he came in. He’s still trying to find connections between them with Keith and Ned.”

“Oh.”

“Is there… I really don’t want to pry, but is there anything going on between the two of you?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Both of you are acting kind of distant. You, I get -  _ with all that serial killer stuff going on _ \- but him, I don’t really get.”

“He’s distant?”

“I keep on catching him spacing out while he’s working.”

“He’s said that he’s tired lately before.”

“He was gone the entire time you were away, though. I would’ve thought he had gotten some rest too. Unless something happened between the two of you during then…”

“We’re not you and Andrew-”

“Hey, what? What are you sayi-”

“Don’t play dumb, Lim. You aren’t exactly discreet.” Some sort of satisfaction rose through his exhaustion as he saw how flustered Steven suddenly became. “And I only saw Ryan once in passing. I never got the chance to say hi.”

“You saw him?”

“Or at least I thought I did. I dunno, everything was kind of hazy with sleep then.”

Steven stared at him for a while longer, ignoring his freshly warmed food. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve been acting differently since everything began. I know there’s only so much shock someone can handle, but it’s not going to be good for you to stay on the case for much longer.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. Everything’s confusing right now, that’s it. Maybe I do wonder every day why the fuck this case is associated with me, but at least nothing too bad has happened.”

“I mean, you do have to deal with the victims on-scene, and the one girl-”

“Seriously, Steven. It takes more than just that to break me.” He gave him a weak but hopefully effective smile, trying his best to convince Steven that he’d be okay.

“Why don’t you relax tonight too? Go to the piano bar or something-”

“Last time I went, 3 people were murdered and a bomb went off.”

Steven sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “See,  _ this  _ is what I mean.”

“I’ll try and get an early sleep then, if that’s what you want.”

“But seriously, man. You can always talk to me.”

“And you can always talk to me too, if you need any help with An-”

“No!” Steven waved his free arm in the air as if it would stop Shane from speaking. Shane couldn’t help the snickers that slipped from his mouth. “I most certainly do  _ not  _ need your help.”

“You don’t have to make such a big deal about it, I’m your frie-”

“Shh, no! You better keep your mouth zipped.” 

Shane made a zipping motion with his fingers, twisting his hand and throwing away an imaginary key as if he was trying to shoot a hoop. Steven glared at him, grabbing his food plate and leaving to exit the room. Shane tried his best not to open his mouth as he snorted laughing.

* * *

The day, as Shane had thought, wasn’t as eventful or progressive as anyone would have wanted it to be. Sure, he rewatched the tapes of the suspect going to the phonebooth that Andrew had collected a few times over, mesmerized by his movements and image, but it still didn’t necessarily help the case. Neither did sitting and staring at Adam staring off into space, Jen going through various files, or Ryan zoning out.

Sighing loudly, Shane dumped all of his stuff beside the door. He didn’t even bother putting most of it away, carelessly throwing his jacket to the coat rack. Making a detour to the fridge, Shane picked out a beer and a microwaveable dinner, too exhausted to actually make anything nutritional. 

While waiting for his dinner to cook, Shane went into the living room and turned on the television, content with the background noise as company. He took a well-needed swig of his beer once he managed to get it open.

Everything seemed particularly dull to Shane that night. Of course, the television droned on and on as per usual. The news was especially boring, so Shane ended up on an episode of  _ House Hunters _ instead. His entire house was dark, and the only thing illuminating his way was the flashing TV screen and the kitchen light. The microwave beeped from the kitchen, so Shane went to go retrieve his dinner.

He may have blamed Ryan for spacing out periodically, yet he now realized that he was a hypocrite as he blankly watched the TV in front of him. He barely noticed that he was eating and finishing up his microwaveable dinner. The commercial break had already come on, and Shane scarcely realized that the show had finished.

Instead, images of the person on the tape Andrew had collected played in front of his eyes like a movie of their own. His imagination would end up running away with him, giving him different angles and make the person more defined or do different things. Not only would Shane manipulate the person’s image, but his brain started to try and connect his voice to his image, taking portions of the call that was basically ingrained into Shane’s head now and further manipulating the voice. His thoughts lazily drifted through various scenarios, becoming more and more unrealistic as they went along.

Shane stretched suddenly and yawned obnoxiously. Standing up, he left the television on, going to the kitchen to dispose of his trash. A part of his mind suggested that he go to sleep early (or sooner rather than later), which was swiftly dashed when all the remaining lights in his house flickered off and the television fell to an unnerving hush. Shane groaned as loud as he could, venting his frustration to no one in particular.

The first thing on his line of business was to find his phone. With increasingly panicked patting of his pockets, Shane became worried that he wouldn’t be able to find his phone until he found it face-down on a counter near to him. Letting out a sigh of relief, he quickly turned on the flashlight and made his way out into the hallway.

Everything was eerie. Sure, Shane was used to living alone, but he always tried to keep some lights on. It wasn’t like this was his first blackout, but it was already quite dark outside, and everything was just that much creepier. Even the street outside was quiet, the only sounds around him being the occasional creak of his footsteps. Gulping, Shane tried his best to calm his racing heart with a few shaky breaths. He was a policeman for Christ’s sake; he’d dealt with way scarier shit before.

Thank god he didn’t have a basement, because Shane would never be able to check the breakers if that were the case. Luckily, the breakers in his house were in a slightly neglected broom closet, still near enough to everything else. Tugging the stubborn door open, Shane shone his phone in the dingy space, scanning the breaker rack.

Stepping closer, he took a really close look at each switch, trying to figure out why the power had gone out in his home. After all, he hadn’t heard any rain outside that day, much less thunder or winds. Yet for some reason, each switch was rightfully in its place, supposedly functional. Frowning, Shane flipped a few back and forth to no avail.

Horror seeped into his every feature. Shane’s mind immediately leapt to every bad scenario, leaving him dizzy with panic. He knew he was trained for getting out of sticky situations, but he was still human and would rather be anywhere than there. Slowly backing out of closet, he closed the door to the best of his ability before creeping back down the hallway as quietly as he could.

All of his senses were heightened. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins like blood, and he no longer needed the assistance of his phone flashlight to trace some details in the dark. Just as he was going to convince himself that he was overreacting, a door slammed closed a few rooms down. All of the hair on Shane’s body was now standing, and he was almost completely paralyzed by fear.

Brain whizzing, he desperately thought about what the most rational thing he could do in that situation. He prided himself in being able to keep himself calm in stressful situations, but now that he was exposed to such a stressful situation, he found it a bit harder to stick to his word. Regulating his breathing, he wriggled open a drawer in a dresser near his front door and pulled out a revolver he had concealed within.

Holding it expertly to his side, Shane began making his way over to where he had heard the source of the noise. He kept his back to the wall as much as he possibly could. Clearing each room was terrifying, but an overwhelming sense of relief washed over him each time he found it empty. It took him a lot of concentration to not shake, and especially with the cold chill of the metal of his gun had against his palm.

“Who’s there?” Shane called out once, rather bravely if he did say so himself. He rounded the last corner into his living room again. The television was still eerily off, and the door to his bedroom was shut all the way. Gulping, he made his way across the living room, each footstep more difficult to make than the last. By the time he was actually in front of his bedroom, arm extended to grab for the doorknob, everything had slowed down around him and his heart was beating in his throat.

Shane had to give himself a mental countdown to be able to convince himself to open the door. Holding the revolver tightly to his body, he squeezed his eyes shut. Reaching the end of the countdown, his eyes fluttered open with determination and he slammed the door open, revolver pointing at an empty room.

Right as he had opened his bedroom door, the television flickered back to life, scaring the shit out of him. Soft light flooded his home again, only bringing some comfort with it. Gripping his revolver tighter, he made his way into his own room. 

He only relaxed when he checked both sides of the bed and, with some persuasion to himself, underneath the bed to find them all clear. Only then did relief wash over him and leave him utterly exhausted. Leaving his revolver on his dresser, he flopped down onto his bed, relaxing and relishing the slightly more secure comfort he felt being in his own house.

A soft, cool wind fluttered through his bedroom curtains, brushing over Shane and rustling his hair. Rolling his head to the side, he gazed at his window curiously. He must have left it open by accident before going to work or during lunch. 

_ Hah. Of course he had to go and get scared over the wind shutting his bedroom door closed. _

* * *

The nurse at one of the various hospital desks looked as if they were more than ready to end their shift before Shane came along. Cheerfully, Shane showed him his police badge, and the yawning nurse gestured for him to pass.

“Late night, sonny?” Shane quipped, jokingly making his voice superior with an accompanying wink. 

“Don’t pass Go and don’t collect 200 dollars,” the nurse sighed, waving him away. Shane chortled as he left, barely noticing the tiny smile and possible blush he got out of the exchange.

Shane knew the way to the morgue well enough. The winding hallways slanting down grew lonelier as he went, effectively isolating the rest of the world. Artificial and fluorescent lights lit his path, the white of the tiles and walls almost making him want to go insane. It was a wonder how Sara spent all of her time down there. There had obviously been some effort to lighten up the place with the few paintings dotting the walls, but they had yet to make a noticeable difference.

“Hey Kevin,” Shane greeted the mortician in a lab coat at another front desk. Kevin barely glanced up before shuffling through a few more papers.

“Hey Shane,” he murmured, putting everything down and leaning back in his chair, “It’s quite late, isn’t it?”

Shane shrugged. “It’s been harder to sleep lately.”

“I suppose you’re getting the worst of it, from what I’ve heard - and  _ I’m _ the one who has to deal with the dead. But why here of all places?”

“I wanna work a bit more.”

“The only other person I’ve seen willingly come to a morgue at night to work is Sara.”

“And speaking of, is she still here?”

“Sara? Yep. She’s been here all day too.”

“Thanks Kevin,” Shane smiles, walking around him to give him a pat on the back, “I’m so glad you’re on the case.”

“For what?” Kevin stared at him, bewildered, “The paperwork?”

“That’s right.” Shane’s smile turned oddly mocking, and Kevin wheezed. 

“Would you like me to leave early or…?”

“I don’t care either way. In fact, if you have any evidence on the case I’d be willing to see-

Kevin shook his head. “Only boring paperwork and family relations. Sorry dude.”

“Ah, well, if you do find anything, feel free to come and tell us. I’ll see you around.”

“Take care, Shane.”

Leaving Kevin to work a bit more, he finally entered the morgue itself. The creak of the door easily made his entrance obvious, but Sara was so immersed in her work that she didn’t seem to notice him at all. Instead, she was at a lab bench quite a ways away from Shane, peering into and fiddling with a microscope. Shane had to walk around four covered bodies - of whom he had a feeling he knew who they were - just to reach her.

“Hey Sara bear,” he called, “Long night?”

Sara jumped in her seat, blinking in confusion at Shane before she adjusted her glasses. “Oh! Shane! I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I just got here.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ve been working all day, and I was completely in my own headspace.” She swivelled where she was on her stool, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Most of her curls were tied back in a cute ponytail for typical lab etiquette. “What did you need?”

“I just couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d come and see what’s happening here.” Shane pulled up an adjacent stool and sat down with her. Sara fiddled with her hands, quickly checking her watch before her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, god, it’s already 9.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty darn late.”

“Why the hell are you here  _ now? _ ”

“I already told you.”

She sighed. Turning back to her microscope, she peeked back through the eyepiece before confronting Shane again. “I’ve been looking in vain for any evidence at all, but so far nothing has turned up.”

“It’s the same at the office. I was hoping something had possibly happened over here.”

“Nothing significant, no,” she shook her head. Sitting up straight again, she leaned against the counter to gaze at the bodies on the examination tables.

“So you  _ did  _ find something?”

“Nothing that would help the case,” she admitted. “Firstly, the sweetgrass tested to be from around the area, but there was nothing else on any of the samples to give us any further clues.”

“Figures. Organic materials are tricky.”

“And then there’s whoever did this in the first place. They must have used some sort of untraceable gloves, because I can’t find any trace of them for the life of me. It’s almost as if a robot could have done this. Only a robot could be so cold-hearted.”

“That reminds me…”

“ _ Of… _ ?”

“The caller from Monday sounded a bit like a robot.”

“You were talking to a serial killer, Shane.”

“Perhaps. But they also had their voice warped. Ironic, isn’t it.”

“They’re just effectively playing their role.”

“Why do  _ you  _ say robotic though?”

“Well, from what I can tell with Eliza,” Sara nodded her head over to the farthest covered body in the morgue from them, “Is that her death wasn’t planned, but whoever the murderer was knew what they were doing.”

“Why do you say it wasn’t planned?”

“Well, they had been doing suicide-like murders before to cover their steps, weren’t they?”

“I suppose...”

“So why have such an obvious murder  _ now  _ of all times?”

“The note? They left that note for me.”

“Maybe, but what if something else happened? What if Eliza knew or did something?”

Shane shrugged, almost unwilling to reflect this far back on the case. “That’s always possible. But they knew what they were doing?”

“Yeah,” Sara nodded grimly, “There was one wound in her abdomen, just underneath her ribcage. It hit her abdominal aorta, and the knife was pulled up as far as it could go. Whoever they were was strong enough to pull their knife out again. It didn’t hit any bone though.”

“I wonder if they were walking around with a bunch of blood on them. Maybe that’s how we were alerted?”

“Bennett informed me they got a tip from someone walking back home from work. It was just someone who saw Eliza after the incident.”

“Shame. That would have been a good tip.”

“It would make all of this a hell of a lot easier, yes,” she agreed. “Not to mention both the paper and the ink from the note tested as incredibly normal. I can’t help but think trying to find everyone who owns a  _ Bic  _ pen will help the case at all.” Her gaze shifted from Eliza’s silhouette to the others, and Shane’s interest somewhat piqued.

“And what about the others? No better clues?”

“Well, first, our two poisoned girls over there don’t give us much. We tested them recently, and we ended up with traces of sodium fluoroacetate.”

“Chemical 1080? Where the hell did they get that?”

“Bennett said someone in the office checked every nearby area that still sells the chemical, but no luck so far. If it was stolen or just old, we’re not going to have too much luck.”

Shane ran a hand through his hair. “TNT isn’t as strange, but Chemical 1080? Who the fuck are we dealing with?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Sara strained a smirk, leaning forward and crossing her arms. “And then there’s the last girl of course.” Shane gulped before she continued. “She was stabbed six times in the back, each one precise and knowing that it would hit something. At least two hit her kidneys.”

“Why was hers so much messier? So much more brutal?” He scrunched his face up, trying to find the reason behind the criminal’s logic.

“Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she knew you?” she reasoned, “With Eliza’s note and everything. And then the call too.”

“That just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe not to you, it doesn’t.”

The silence between them that followed was eerie and artificial. Shane took the time to consider what Sara had told him, but the whirring of various unidentified machines around the basement was somewhat unnerving. Sara was staring at him as he thought, her brown eyes tired but calculating behind their frames.

“How’s Ryan doing lately?” she asked suddenly, sitting up again. Shane’s head whipped around to her once the words left her mouth.

“Tired… I think,” he began slowly, “I’m not quite sure. I haven’t seen much of him over the past few days.”

“I thought you two were working on this case together now.”

“Technically, yeah. He’s been looking more into the files and the victim’s connections more than anything. I’ve been working on other stuff.”

“Uhuh.  _ Stuff _ . But what kind of connections has Ryan found so far?”

“Not much.” Shane racked his brain for a conversation he had had earlier. “They were starting to see that a lot of the victims had at least some sort of criminal record, but that’s about it so far.”

“A criminal record? Does it have something to do with that religious organization thingy? What were they called?  _ Revelations _ ?”

“Now that you say that, that’s probably what it is.”

“So your only concerns with Ryan are with work?”

“Whose even getting you to say shit like this?” Shane asked, rolling his eyes. Sara’s lack of eye contact instantly revealed her guiltiness.

“Steven and Andrew came by earlier for the same reason you did.”

_ “ _ Ohhhhh _ , of course they did _ .”

“And? Is there something going on between them?”

Shane immediately stopped sulking to smirk at Sara. “What do you mean by that?’

“I mean, they’re sticking closer to each other than usual. Which is saying something.”

“Ah, you’re an observant one, aren’t you?” Shane tapped his chin, drawing out the realization from Sara that he knew something she didn’t.

“Fess up, Shane. You know something, don’t you.”

“I’m not saying I actually saw anything in detail but they were definitely making out at the gas station while we were checking the phone booth.”

“ _ Goddammit _ ,” Sara mumbled under her breath, avoiding Shane’s victorious smirk. Begrudgingly, she took a twenty out of her lab coat pocket and stuffed it into Shane’s extended hand. “That’s for Ryan.”

“What is?”

“I’m only giving it to you so you can take Ryan for drinks.”

“What? I won the money though.”

“Yeah, but you gotta do as I say.”

“Why drinks though?” he whined, stuffing his newly gained money into his coat pocket.

“You even said that we were all family,” Sara told him seriously, turning back to her microscope to clean up the area, “You should at the very least try and be better friends with him. After all, he’s one of us now.”

The worn paper of the twenty suddenly held so much more significance than it did a few seconds ago. Shane rubbed it between his fingers, drinking in what Sara had said. It  _ was  _ true though: Ryan was working in the force with them now, even if temporarily. Shane was the closest to Ryan, and the only reason why he had been acting so stubborn was because he was…  _ angry about Ryan’s reaction to a dream that he had had about him? _ Something dumb, as per usual. Sara’s curls bounced around her shoulders as she reached across the bench to grab something.

“What’s a twenty even supposed to get me?”

“Just get a couple beers, or maybe a cheap wine. Invite him over. Or you could break out some better stuff. I don’t know what you keep.”

“God, I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“You’ll thank me in the end,” she hummed lightly. Standing up, she further cleaned up her workspace by moving some of the larger equipment she had laying around the lab bench. Shane watched her for a minute or two before he felt the need to speak his thoughts.

“Do you think I’ll actually get a weekend?”

“Hm?”

“Just a peaceful weekend. One where I can sit at home and not have to stress about work and sleep in.”

“I didn’t even realize you got weekends.”

“I used to anyway.”

“You’ll probably stress about work anyhow. But it’s possible. Nothing has been happening for the past while, and you still have… how many days left?”

“Until Monday. That’s when the call was.”

“Right. Then who in their right mind would be sitting and trying to work in a morgue on a Friday night?”

“It’s completely possible that something will happen. It’s been a miracle so far that we’ve been able to trust Revelations and keep them to their word.”

“You did get a rest earlier this week, but knowing you and your situation, you’ll probably need as much time off as you can get.” They stayed frozen where they were, staring at each other and having an entire conversation through their eyes. Shane’s mind had grown sluggish, and he was suddenly looking forward to going home and getting into bed.

“Well, let’s not waste any time,” Sara turned on her heel suddenly, putting on some latex gloves. “I would love if you could help me put everything away, and we can both get home really soon.” 

Stretching, Shane leapt off his stool and went to find a spare lab coat and some gloves.  _ Talking with Sara really did help him sort out his thoughts. _

* * *

Shane was not surprised, but he sure was disappointed.

Waking up to his cell phone ringing at nine in the morning was the last thing he wanted to do on a Saturday morning, and he had an overwhelming sense of wanting to ignore it and roll back over into bed when he saw the caller ID. Reluctantly, he sat himself up and answered the call nonetheless.

“Chief? What happened? I’m supposed to have my weekends off.”

_ “It’s an emergency, Madej.” _

_ Ah. Of course. _ It had been too suspicious for the city to be radio-silent the entire week.

“Can I know what it is this time?”

_ “No one is in life-threatening danger this time.” ‘This time,’  _ Shane repeated under his breath. He winced as his feet touched the cold floor.

“Then why is it an emergency?”

_ “It regards to your case, Madej. I don’t know if it will help you or not, but it’s rather… large evidence, if I do say so myself.” _ Shane wasn’t sure if Bennett had made an attempt at humor just then, but since he didn’t know the context yet, he wasn’t certain.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be there. Where is it.”

_ “It’s uh… well…” _

“Just send your coordinates and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

_ “Thank you Madej. I’ll see you then.” _ The line clicked, and Bennett had already hung up.

Just before he had everything ready to go, Shane checked the location Bennett had sent him. He didn’t quite know where it was at first until he plugged it into Google Maps. It still seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere, but only a mile or two in the outskirts of Mercy. Sighing, Shane greeted the bright morning with disdain as he locked up his house and made his way to his car.

The entire car ride only raised the suspense of what Shane could find once he reached his destination, which was easily dragged out as he weaved through lazy streets barely waking up for the weekend. He finally was able to slow to a stop near a few run-down brick buildings. 

It only took Shane a minute or two to find Bennett and some more of his squad based on where he heard commotion. Around the back of the empty building that had been put up for lease, he spotted Bennett, Ryan, and Andrew all staring up at the tall back wall of the building. His confusion only lasted for a few seconds before he had to take a few steps back himself to gape at the masterpiece crafted on the old brick in front of him.

“Hey Shane-” someone said behind him, who was quickly shushed once they realized Shane’s immersion in the new piece of evidence. He was drinking in the mural with such intensity that he probably wouldn’t have reacted to them anyhow.

A large painting had been graffitied across most of the wall, and though it was obviously an act of vandalism, Shane couldn’t help but be struck with awe. It was most likely done with spray paints, but it was so expertly done that it looked like it could have been done with oils and be hanging in the Louvre or the Met. Everything was coloured and designed to look like dreary romanticism art.

Right in the centre of the image stood a man as tall as most of the wall, standing proud over everything despite the fact that his face wasn’t discernable. Beside him rode four people on different horses. If Shane’s intuition was correct, he was guessing that they were modeled as if they were some sort of angels. Their faces were also not distinct. Underneath them was, for lack of a better description, suffering and pain. The figures could have represented people, but their intention was relatively clear. Lining the bottom of the painting were the words  _ Primum fine est _ in sharp and edgy red letters. The entire piece had probably taken at least a few week’s worth of patience, perhaps going on under their radar while the suicide-esque murders were taking place.

“Holy shit,” Shane murmured, still staring at each individual detail in the hopes of finding some sort of clue amongst the bullshit. “Does anyone remember anything from their Latin classes?”

“Something about the world coming to an end soon,” Ryan muttered. Shane glanced over to him and noticed that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the artpiece either.

“Glad these dumbasses still think the world is going to end,” Bennett grumbled, almost earning a guffaw from Shane.

“How do we know this is from Revelations?” Shane asked.

Chief Bennett gestured to the entire image. “Look at this shit. Does this not scream  _ Book of Revelations _ to you?”

“What?”

“Four horsemen of the apocalypse and all that bullcrap. The world ending. What more do you need?”

“A signature maybe?”

“Oi, Shane,” Andrew interrupted, garnering his attention, “You make an appearance too.” He was pointing to one of the most distant yet possibly creepiest horsemen. Squinting, Shane barely noticed the figure seated behind the rider on the horse, peeking above their shoulder. “They’ve got your hair and legs.” 

“How did you recognize my  _ legs  _ of all things?”

“No one else has legs almost as long as the horse’s.”

Ignoring the comment, Shane walked up to the supposed image of himself to take a better look at it. It was easier to figure out that it was him than the other figures in the painting, since the lighting in the image fell down on his face, but somehow missed everyone else’s. It was oddly accurate, with all his recognizable features from his sharp nose to his usual stubble. His face was morphed to look strangely… at peace, and determined. Remembering everything of what he knew of his connection to the case, Shane shuddered and stepped back.

“Are we going to be painting this over?” Shane asked, turning to Bennett.

“Not anytime soon,” he shook his head decisively, “It may contain crucial evidence. Someone from the lab is going to come and pick up a sample of the paint, and we’ll want to scout out the area in case the criminal’s hideout is near here. Plus it would be a shame to cover such an incredible piece of art so soon,” he added as an afterthought.

“This is a criminal act, Chief,” Shane chided.

“I can still appreciate good art, Madej. Now start investigating the area. You can take Bergara with you.”

Being shooed away, Shane went over to Ryan, tugging his shoulder when he realized that Ryan’s concentration still hadn’t slipped from the graffiti. Ryan’s eyes still lingered on the wall.

“Hey, Ryan.”

“What?”

“Let’s go.”

“What?” He finally turned to face him, eyes wide. His face relaxed.

“We need to go investigate the area.” Shane’s grip slipped from Ryan’s shoulder to his forearm.

“Oh.” Ryan blinked, shaking himself briefly. “Sorry, I just got lost in thought a bit.”

“You were totally gone, man,” Shane teased.

He stepped forward. “We should go.”

“Yeah… yeah, let’s go.” Shane’s hand slipped from Ryan’s sleeve and fell heavily to his side.

Both moved to jog around the wooded area behind the buildings, seeing Andrew go and scout out the empty building, Chief Bennett in tow after hastily greeting a lab tech that had just arrived. Soon all they could hear were sticks and dried leaves crunching underneath their feet, the brick buildings just out of sight. Shane kept his eyes peeled, looking for any clue that would assist their case.

“Hey, Ryan?” Shane asked suddenly. He was crouched down to investigate an odd-looking stump, but when realizing there was nothing actually wrong with it, he stood up and went to go look elsewhere in relatively the same direction as Ryan.

“Yeah?”

“Steven’s right. You’re getting really spacey lately.”

“I’ve just been getting really tired. Looking through files all day isn’t the most  _ enlightening _ .”

“And you haven’t found much, have you?”

“Just their criminal records. We’ve started to organize them, since they could have something to do with the religious organization’s motive.”

“I suppose they did say something about  _ ‘God’s judgement’ _ or some bullshit.”

“Precisely.”

“But you haven’t been taking any breaks, have you.”

Ryan scrunched up his face to think. “No, not really.”

“Even though you’re so tired?”

“When you put it that way…”

“Go out for drinks with me.”

Shane’s proposition was sudden, and he refrained from looking at Ryan at all, simply concentrating on scanning the area for any further evidence instead. Ryan had stopped moving, and Shane was terrified that his suggestion was too out of the blue.

“When?” he asked instead. Shane stood up straight and tried to process his question.

“Tomorrow evening. Just at my place. So we can relax before this shitshow starts up again.”

“Oh, okay. Alright. That sounds good.”

“I won a bet with Sara so I can always pick up some beers, but I could also probably find something in the cellar too.”

“Whatever’s fine. I’m just glad you asked.”

“Ah. I see.”

Shane turned away as he jogged so that Ryan couldn’t see the tiny smile that had broken out on his face.

* * *

Shane sat at his piano for most of Sunday evening, lazily improvising as he waited for Ryan to arrive. His supper dishes were balanced on a stack of books on the floor, and a half-empty beer can had already been placed on a flat-enough surface on his grand piano.

There was a knock on the door, and Shane stopped his playing abruptly. Sitting up, he grabbed his dirty dishes and stopped by the kitchen to drop them off before running to the front door. Opening it up, he was greeted with Ryan’s figure casually leaning against the doorframe as he waited. He was straightening up now that Shane had actually opened the door.

“Hey there,” Shane murmured, stepping aside to let his coworker in. “Is it cold out?”

“Not too bad,” Ryan admitted, instantly toeing off his shoes by the doormat. Shane shut and locked the door behind him.

“You always have that trenchcoat of yours with you, don’t you?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow at his accusing statement. “It’s comfortable and practical. Why wouldn’t I?” Despite Shane’s comment, he shrugged his coat off, hanging it on the nearest coatrack to him. He was still wearing his white button-up, the sleeves casually rolled up his forearms.

“There’s some beer in the fridge, and I even found some old rum if you’d prefer that. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve just been tinkering around on the ol’ keyboard again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryan waved, going to Shane’s kitchen, “I love your playing.”

Leaving Ryan to his own devices, he went back to the living room and sat back down on the bench. Taking a sip of his beer, he shuffled through a bunch of his music before thinking of something to play.

Setting everything aside, he set his hands on the keys, and began playing softly. It was ambient music, and rather complex jazz, but good all the while. There wasn’t too much to it - just something to get his fingers moving.

His playing abruptly stopped when he heard a glass fall to the carpet behind him, subsequently followed with a  _ ‘shit’ _ and ‘ _ fuck’ _ . Swivelling around in his seat, he saw Ryan crouched down with a glass in his hand and a growing wet spot in Shane’s carpet at Ryan’s feet. He glanced up and met Shane’s eyes with a guilty look.

“Sorry I just... I… It’s only water… ” he failed to explain himself.

“That’s alright,” Shane sighed, “If anything it’ll just clean up the one spot. But why did you only take water?”

“I’ll get something later. I just wanted to start with water.”

“Alright. Whatever floats your boat.”

“But… that song you were playing… wasn’t it… Monk, or something, right?” Ryan seemed really unsure of himself, and there was something strange about the way he had said it.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he admitted, “Monk’s a jazz genius, and I didn’t know you knew so much about jazz.”

“I heard that song once before…”

“Reflections?”

“Yeah. It really struck me.”

Shane rubbed his chin. “It is quite a nice song, isn’t it.” He turned around when he realized he couldn’t think of anything else to contribute to the conversation at the moment and downed the rest of his beer. “Actually, speaking of,” he started, “I’ve been meaning to find some new pieces to freshen up my repertoire, so do you have any suggestions?”

“So am I.”

The answer was immediate, and this time very sure of himself. Shane turned back to his friend to see a determined look on his face. 

“ _ So am I _ ?” he repeated, trying to figure out which song he was talking about.

“The Gershwin piece,” Ryan added, “It’s… it’s one of my favourites.”

“Oh, that one?” Shane thought aloud. “I think I have a Gershwin collection somewhere.” Getting up once again, he moved over to an overflowing bookshelf and rummaged around through various books. It took him a few minutes, but he finally found what he was looking for as he flipped through the collection’s pages. “ _ Got it. _ ” Making his way back over to the piano, he bent the book’s spine enough so that it would stay open on the music rack.

Leaning back, he glanced over to his coworker to see him curled up in an armchair, watching Shane with curious eyes. Encouraged by his audience, Shane turned back to the keyboard and began to sight read the piece for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday's phantom is tomorrow's ghost, / Where vengeful blood but all dirties the host.
> 
>  
> 
> lmao so i wrote that iambic pentameter half limerick on the way back from school a while back for the fic...... i hope it doesnt give too much away lol


	8. Smouldering Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Revelations' hiatus has finally come, and the police force has to wait like sitting ducks to see just what they have up their sleeves this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! im finally back again!!! it took a bit longer this time because of school and another project i was working on (if you like standrew, do go check out my fic [spring brought primrose!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497545/chapters/33491235) it's one of the things i was/still am busy with), but now that a few things with school cleared up im hoping to be able to catch up on this and really get the ball rolling...
> 
> OH YEAH i forgot last time but my absolute fave [seth](http://lapetitmattchampion.tumblr.com/) read a lil bit of mercy and drew [this lil thing](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/396468239397552129/419658577486151691/Image_3.jpg?width=329&height=424) based on one of the concepts and i love all of his art sm please go support him and look at the cute lil andrew that he actually drew a few months ago oof!! (also if yall actually do anything for the fic please show me asap cause ill die for it already).... also on other mentions of people tysm to nina ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) ), who is as amazing as usual for being able to have a first read of the chapter and edit it before it's published!! <3
> 
>  **CHAPTER WARNINGS**  
>  \---> vivid descriptions of burns and fire in the first part, you'll be fine if you go past the first break. stay safe yall :^)

On Monday morning, the entire office was tense.

Everything seemed to be functioning normally, but Shane could see every wary eye glancing at the clock and the unusual restlessness of each officer. Only whispers were heard throughout the office, and only if absolutely necessary. Even Adam kept on frowning at his own computer screen. Chief Bennett had been holed up in his office the entire morning, and Shane hadn’t gotten one look at him yet - even though he had gotten to the office as early as possible. 

Shane was probably doing the least amount of work out of everyone. Even Ryan busied himself, still sorting through various case files scattered across an unused table. He watched him work for a while, mindlessly studying his features and how his face shifted as he read. Somehow this kept Shane mesmerized, temporarily distracting him from the impending terrors that were undoubtedly going to happen in Mercy.

His chair was definitely blocking some of the walking space in the office, but Steven still managed to bump into it despite it being in plain sight. Not to mention that Shane of all people was sitting in the aforementioned chair; he’s just the type of sight that’s hard to miss. Even though his mind took a while to catch up, Shane managed to catch some of the papers that Steven had been holding.

“Oh god,” Steven sighed, crouching to pick up whatever else fell onto the floor. “Thanks, Shane.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied, sitting up straighter, “Are you good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steven waved him off hastily, almost brushing off all the papers in his arms onto the floor again.

“Do you need any help?”

“Not particularly.”

“It doesn’t just have to be with carrying papers.”

“Then in that case,  _ definitely not. _ ”

Shane peered at him, making Steven squirm in his spot but also trapping him where he was. “I know it seems like  _ ‘justice’ _ is supposed to happen today, but nothing bad’s happened yet. You don’t have to be so tense.” A few thoughts flitted over Steven’s face before he spoke again.

“I’m surprised  _ you’re _ not more tense.”

“Oh, trust me,  _ I am _ . But does it have something to do with Andrew, maybe?”

He grimaced at first, but then it melted into something more like worry. “I was with him this morning before I got to the office. You know he’s at the prison right now, right?”

“No…” Shane raised his eyebrows, somewhat curious but not concerned. “He’s done business there a lot though, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m just…”

“We don’t even have that large of a penitentiary sector in the prison, and it’s only a portion of the prison too. Plus it’s our  _ job  _ as officers to deal with criminals, Steven.”

“I know…” Steven sighed. He dumped everything he was carrying on a free corner on Shane’s desk before frustratedly running his hands through his hair. “But when I was with Andrew this morning, he was… he wasn’t as laid back as he usually is. He almost seemed…  _ on edge _ , or something, I dunno.” His expression was pained, and although Shane didn’t want to be concerned over such a small over-analyzation, he immediately felt an urge to comfort his coworker. “I can tell he was trying really hard not to show it but… Shane, I can just  _ read  _ him, you know? I hate that he was hiding it from me, but I’m really worried about him.”

“You think he’ll be targeted?” Shane asked, gently laying a hand on Steven’s arm in an attempt to comfort him. 

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Steven,” he addressed him, squeezing his arm slightly harder. “Look around the rest of the office.” Steven’s eyes shifted around at his order, lingering on each coworkers’ face. “Do they not also look tense? On edge?”

Steven nodded. “Well… of course… but I can’t help but worry about him.”

“He’ll be alright,” Shane reassured. “He’s also one of the most capable officers I’ve ever known.”

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded to himself, forcing out a weak grin. Shane patted his arm once before retracting it. “We’ll solve this in no time.”

“ _ I sure hope so _ ,” Shane murmured under his breath. Standing up, he assisted Steven in collecting all of his papers again before going his own way towards Ryan.

Ryan was too immersed in his work to notice Shane’s approach. Though Shane didn’t say anything, he briefly patted Ryan’s head, ruffling his hair so that it stuck up where it wasn’t supposed to. Ryan wheezed softly with laughter, subconsciously leaning into Shane’s touch but keeping his eyes on his work. Smiling, Shane patted his hair once more before taking back his hand.

“You’re still working hard,” he noted, leaning against the table with his hip, scanning the documents Ryan had out in front of him. Ryan hummed in acknowledgement, shuffling a few papers before stacking them to the side.

“Waiting for something to happen is too nerve-wracking for me. I have to work.”

“Good on you. I obviously cannot do that.”

“As long as you’re ready as soon as something does happen.”

“Who says something  _ will  _ happen?”

A phone began ringing as if on cue, cutting through the air with its shrill voice like a knife. It had been timed perfectly as if it was an answer to Shane’s question. If the office hadn’t been silent before, it was deathly still now, and between each ring you could probably be able to hear a pin drop.

After what seemed like forever, Adam finally picked the phone up, answering with a quiet ‘ _ Hello?’ _ . It was impossible to hear what was being said on the other end, and Adam’s knack for speaking so little didn’t help either. Though his face also did not give away much, it wasn’t hard to feel the drop in mood throughout the office. The phone was placed back on its receiver with a clatter, and you could hear a collective breath being held throughout the office as Adam turned to everyone.

“There’s a fire,” he stated plainly, almost too monotone. “A really big one, at the prison.”

As soon as his last few words left his mouth, the office suddenly began moving again, shifting around Shane faster than he could keep up. His head spun trying to balance all of the noise happening around him and the coming to terms of the severity of the situation. Adam hadn’t even given explicit details, and yet everyone knew who was behind the flames.

“Come on,” Shane said, snapping to his senses. He was tugging Ryan by the arm, pulling him to his feet. “We have to get there as soon as we can. Just go to the car Keith goes to.” Shane pointed over to his ex-partner, who was already rushing out with one of the newer officers. Ryan nodded, already rushing off in a daze. Shane would have followed behind, but he caught a glimpse of Steven from the corner of his eye and rushed to his side instead.

“Steven?” he asked, shaking his coworker’s shoulder. “Steven? Are you okay?”

“I fucking knew something was going to happen,” he muttered under his breath. Steven had his phone out, trying to text Andrew to ask if he was alright, but his hands were shaking too much to be able to properly type out anything coherent.

“It might not even be that bad,” Shane tried to reassure him, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Steven shook his head. “Adam said it was bad. Oh god, what if something happened to him, what if something happened to  _ anyone- _ ”

“ _ Steven _ .” Perhaps his voice had been a little too stern, or a little too loud, but the immediate attention he gained from his friend was more than enough. “Literally  _ nothing  _ is going to be helped with you panicking over here. You’ve been trained to be calm in these situations, now please do so.” Something fell behind Steven’s eyes, and immediately his entire body became still, as if he had put a lid over the growing panic inside of him. “Now let’s go see what we can do to help.” Nodding bleakly, Steven let himself be dragged away as Shane lead him to where he had directed Ryan.

Ryan wasn’t hard to spot, as he was still waiting outside the car, looking for Shane. There was a sense of urgency to his manner, and as soon as he saw Shane and Steven approaching, he opened a back seat door and ushered for them to get in. Shane gladly clambered inside, but he saw Ryan’s expression change briefly as he caught sight of Steven’s face. Stopping him before he got inside, Ryan brought Steven to the other side of the car so that he got in first, Steven getting the window seat.

The car had already been running as they all got in, but as soon as the last door shut, Kelsey - who was in the driver’s seat - pulled the vehicle out of park and started driving. Shane briefly saw how concentrated she was as she did a quick shoulder check.

“Do you know how to get there?” he asked, leaning against Ryan to be able to see into the front seat. Keith was busy typing something into his phone.

“The fastest way,” Kelsey confirmed, lowering her aviators momentarily and winking into the rearview mirror. “I worked in a low-security area of the prison before I got put on patrol.”

“Oh, perfect,” Shane murmured, staring out the window. 

He could barely hear Ryan whispering something to Steven, who was pressed up against his own window, pale but somehow keeping his composure. Steven was shaking his head at something Ryan had said, so Shane tried tuning into their conversation.

“Even breaths, in and out,” Ryan murmured, rubbing his coworker’s back. “Do you feel a little better now? We can go look for some water once we get on scene.”

“I’m still a bit dizzy,” Steven replied feebly, “but I’ve dealt with worse before.”

“You’re still shaking, and your breath hasn’t slowed that much.”

His smile was waning. “It takes time.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Everyone will get out of today okay.”

“I sure hope so. What really puts me off was how Andrew was acting before.”

“He must have really good intuition.”

“I just feel like it’s my fault for not  _ acting _ , for not staying around him.”

“This is in  _ no way _ your fault, Steven.”

“Yeah, I know, but my anxiety says otherwise. Also, your hands are really cold.”

“I thought it was comforting you. Are they actually that cold?”

“It’s still hot outside. Why the hell are your hands so cold?”

“We’re almost there,” Keith interrupted them. “You can see it in the distance.”

Shane glanced out his window, and sure enough, it was too easy to see the pillar of black smoke rising from behind a few more buildings. His stomach dropped a mile into the ground as he realized how much smoke was present, and the large area it was already rising from. It was clearly a bit more serious than the  _ ‘big’  _ Adam had seemed to brush over.

“Oh fuck,” Ryan groaned, just under his breath.

Kelsey didn’t slow the car as they approached the scene until she pulled up to nearest curb, just far away enough from the burning building. The fire itself was severe enough that they could already see flames licking the containment portion of the prison where most of the prisoners were kept, some of the visible areas collapsed in evidence of damage or explosion. Shane was out of the car before the car had even come to a full stop.

The first thing Shane noticed as soon as he was out in the open was the intense heat of the environment. Perhaps that late-summer-early-autumn morning had been warm enough to notice, but the heat now emitting from the fire itself was sweltering - even from the distance Shane first encountered it. The entire scene itself was warped by all of the heat rising. Shane watched the entire thing in a daze, it becoming more surreal as he pushed on.

And not to mention the smell itself. There was a rancid scent to the air, filled with the burning of gases and rubber and a bit of something metallic, smothering any breathable air. Thick black smoke filled Shane’s nose as he got too close to the scene, choking him and making him cough. His eyes also began to water from the smoke, making it ten times more difficult to navigate a way into the building.

Perhaps the worst part of the entire scene itself was the noise. If the premises had been utterly evacuated beforehand it could have been quite an unusual spectacle, but by the way it sounded, this was a much more horrifying reality. 

Shane had to force himself to not clamp his hands over his ears to block out the petrifying screams of prisoners being  _ burned alive _ . It almost made him gag, just beginning to delve into thinking of the sources of those voices. Each scream would rip from its user’s throat, ringing in the air like an alarm until it grew too weak to physically continue. Though Shane had been to quite a few death scenes, never had he been to such an occurrence where so many people he couldn’t help were dying a slow and torturous death. Maybe the worst part of it all was that he knew what position they were in, and why they  _ couldn’t escape _ . Even if there was an officer to open a few of the cell blocks before the fire inevitably reached them, there were still countless prisoners trapped behind bars as the flames continued to eat them alive. Wailing sirens in the distance bringing help were drowned out by the crunching of falling structures, almost making their efforts seem futile. Shane had no idea where they were anymore, or if there was even that much to salvage at this point. 

Somewhere through the vague haze of panic, Shane saw Andrew barreling through the glass administration doors, running as if it were for his life. His eyes were wide and lifeless, eerily paired with the gasping breaths he drew with every step. Various parts of his uniform were singed to different extents, and Shane had to do a double take to see that his hands had not gotten out of the fire unscathed. Since he was running in the direction Shane had come from, he paid no more attention to him and turned back around.

It was so, so dangerous to be venturing any further, but something inside of Shane pushed him to continue. He had no idea why he was going closer and closer to the screams, and a thought absently crossed the back of his mind on perhaps having some sort of hero complex. There was nothing to really be a hero about at this point though, right?

If anything, it was doing so much worse on him. Black smoke filled his lungs, suffocating him from the inside. The few times he inhaled as he attempted to breathe, his nostrils were filled with the stinging scent of gas, implying what possibly started the fire in the first place. He regretted not bringing any sort of mask before rushing into the burning building.

What was Shane even looking for? Survivors? Evidence? He was probably the least qualified to do anything in the situation anyhow. Suddenly remembering his whole case with Revelations, he absently began to look and see if the arsonist had left anything behind. The search wasn’t too effective, as he was now beginning to feel light-headed, and everything kind of felt like a dream. It probably wasn’t the best idea to wander into an area with such intense heat.

He definitely heard it before he saw it, but Shane finally approached some of the cells that the fire had evidently passed. Wailing and weak screams ripped from throats, sobs and smoke choking them up. The absolute sound of human peril was indescribably horrible, and it felt surreal that Shane was even witnessing what he was. Dealing with people on the brink of death was very much different than dealing with the dead, and the realization hit Shane like a bus. 

The first few cells he passed had some people sitting on the ground, nursing whatever burns they had. Though it wasn’t too serious, their empty and pleading eyes followed him, begging for his help. Shane wasn’t focused enough to help them immediately, and went to check some of the worse-for-wear cells in the block.

By the time he got to the end of the cell block, he realized that there was so much more that was probably not salvageable. Some debris still burned, and a good portion of that area had collapsed in that was not as stable. There were a good few cells that Shane hesitated glancing into, knowing that whatever inhabitants they possessed did not have a good likelihood of survival. 

Once Shane caught sight of a really severe victim, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. In all honesty, he couldn’t tell if they were still alive or not, but they were slumped across the furthest wall in their cell as if they had been trying to escape the fire from the confines of their containment. Most of their skin had bubbled and begun to melt, blistering white and red on every surface that their clothes weren’t beginning to melt onto them. More severe third degree burns scathed their vulnerable limbs, revealing shockingly white bone from red and angry flesh. Those areas were sickeningly dark - some even tinged black around the edges with soot. Their face was so deformed and discolored that Shane couldn’t tell any features about them if he tried - even their skin bubbled around their eyes so he couldn’t tell if they were conscious or not. The terrifying disfiguration kept Shane sickeningly entranced, and it took everything in him to tear his eyes away.

Running back to the other cells that he could still salvage, he rummaged around his belt to find the prison cell key that most officers kept on them. Going to as many cells as he could, he tore them open as fast as he physically could, excess adrenaline making him throw the doors open and add the extra clang of metal to the constant cacophony. The metal was still hot, but nothing that would give Shane anything serious. Some of the more able prisoners limped their ways out of the cells, and some even stayed to help bring the less-able out as Shane released them. Though he unlocked as many as he could, as he went along, less and less were able to actually crawl their way out. Shane kept a wary eye on all of their injuries, seeing how horribly each differed on every person.

Adrenaline was the only thing keeping Shane from passing out, despite him having to cough his lungs out every few seconds between each raspy breath. He was almost ready to black out from exhaustion as someone tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from the worst of the scene. Shane’s ears were ringing too much and his head was not comprehending anything that they were saying, but he could see by their outfit and mask that they actually knew what they were doing and were there to help. The last he remembered inside of the prison was being escorted out by one of the professionals.

Laying down outside was a great relief to him, and the oxygen mask handed to him was an even greater relief. Though he had the urge to cough still, his breathing already felt easier, and the smoke not as harsh on his lungs. There was quite a commotion around him, but he closed his eyes for a bit in favour of gaining a bit of rest.

When he opened up his eyes again, he noticed that Ryan was sitting beside him, watching over him protectively. His eyes lingered on the prison, but they were easy to fall back on Shane as soon as he realized he was moving again.

“You’re so fucking dumb, big guy,” he murmured, concern lacing his voice. Shane smiled behind his mask, failing to laugh as it became a coughing fit. Ryan helped him sit up, patting his back as it would help him get everything out of his lungs. “We are  _ not  _ the professionals made to do that sort of thing.”

Shane shrugged. Ryan sighed.

“In case you were wondering…” Ryan continued, “Keith, Kelsey, and I did a quick run around the prison to see if the criminal had escaped. We couldn’t find any evidence, so we ended up coming back here right as your dumb ass came wandering out of the literally burning building with a med. Steven stayed here with Andrew, and I don’t think Andrew’s recovered quite yet either.”

Shane was about to say something, lifting his mask so he could be heard, but Ryan placed his hand over his, pushing the mask back onto Shane’s face.

“Your vocal chords are going to be brutal, man,” he assured him. “Just wait it out a bit longer and get a bit more air in that big ol’ body of yours. And in case you were wondering: all of the ambulances are currently away taking care of some of the more severe cases.” Shane gave him a look, trying his best to convey his question through his eyes. “Yeah… I don’t think we got that good of a turnout. A lot of the firefighters and paramedics seemed really distressed climbing out of the wreckage, and I think there are going to be a lot of fatalities from this.”

Absently scanning his surroundings, Shane noticed that he wasn’t actually too far from the car they had come in. The trunk of the van was all the way open, and both Steven and Andrew were sat together. Andrew had a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he still wasn’t quite mentally present either. Steven was telling him things quietly, undoubtedly reassuring him about something or another, but even he seemed drained. Standing up, Shane had to lean on Ryan for support as he picked up his oxygen tanks to go see how the two were doing.

“He’s wondering if he’s alright,” Ryan spoke up for Shane, noticing his hesitance and the way he gestured to Andrew. Steven’s head snapped up, nodding before responding.

“I’m not quite sure what happened in there for him to be like this,” he said, voice quivering slightly but weak, “but he definitely got some bad burns on his hands. Only minor second-degree ones, but he won’t be able to work for a while.” At the mention of the burns, Steven held up both of Andrew’s hands. They were set together, relaxed as Steven cradled them in his own hands. Shane was almost grateful that they were already heavily bandaged, not willing to see any more burns for the rest of his lifetime. Andrew still had yet to react to their presence.

“Thank god he managed to get out with only that,” Ryan pointed out, Steven nodding along again.

“They said…” Andrew stated suddenly, addressing it to no one in particular, perhaps no one at all. “They said it was a holy fire.” His voice cracked from being used so little and abused with the fire smoke, and he laughed a little, sounding somewhat deranged. “A  _ holy fire _ .”

“Who said that?” Ryan insisted, immediately prodding. Andrew still wasn’t paying attention.

“Don’t push him,” Steven pleaded, eyes begging. “I don’t think he’d be able to tell us properly now, and I cannot imagine what he’s just had to witness.”

“Considering the person Andrew always struck me as, I’ll take your word for it. Even for an officer, he’s long gone. God, this is definitely all done by the hands of  _ Revelations _ , isn’t it.”

Shane squinted at the now smouldering prison, thinking about Ryan’s statement. As the situation was actually happening, he had become lost in the panic, desperately clinging on to sanity instead of digging for a cause.  _ Revelations  _ had the power to do  _ this _ , to almost completely  _ eradicate  _ an entire prison. Murder was horrible in its own way, but done by the masses was ultimately more horrifying and dehumanizing than anything else.

* * *

 

Shane was grateful more than anything else to be home and able to use his  _ own  _ shower.

The aftermath of the fire resulted in mainly listening in to the fire investigators’ observations, and being driven all the way to the hospital to be further inspected. At the hospital, Shane had insisted that he was okay, but he still wasn’t released until the afternoon. They had advised him to come back in or to a clinic in case he had a flare of difficulty with breathing, all while they continued to supply him with more oxygen. One of the doctors even mentioned getting Shane a therapist, to which he sternly refused until after the case was finished. Though he was probably hasty in his decisions, it wouldn’t do him good to pile up thing over thing as the case became serious.

His bathroom fan whirred to life, and he slowly undressed, tossing his filthy clothes to the corner of the tiny room. Some of the grime had faded throughout the day, Shane noted as he watched himself in the large mirror above his sink, but he could easily tell where his clothes were by how filthy his skin was. He would probably have to wash his clothes as soon as possible, but for now he just wanted to clean himself off.

Letting the water turn hot, Shane continued to stare at himself in the bathroom mirror, ogling at how even his expression had changed lately. Shane was well built and kept himself in shape, which definitely showed, but he was mostly drawn to how empty and tired his eyes were. He had also neglected to shave, evident by the 5 o’clock shadow growing on his face. His attention veered down to his hands, which were red and blistering slightly. The nurses had said it wasn’t too serious, but he had definitely gotten a few burns trying to release some of the victims from their cells.

Before letting too much water go to waste, he dragged himself into the shower, running his hands through his hair to get it thoroughly wet. The water burned at first, beating against his chest and turning his skin rosy red. It didn’t take too long for it to become bearable to sit underneath the downpour and be embraced by that warmth. In a way it was almost ironic how Shane had encountered sweltering heat throughout the day through the fire and the hot late summer day, only to retreat to a shower that was just as hot to relax his muscles. 

Shane let himself be carried away by his thoughts as he stood underneath the water. His mind kept on trying to show him images of the burns on each victim of the fire, and the empty faces they all possessed. Grabbing his shampoo, he furiously rubbed it into his scalp in a means to try and get rid of the images, to distract himself. In fact, the faint burns on the palms of his hands flared up, stinging and momentarily taking his mind off the images. Shane became slightly more sensitive to the blistered areas, but had to get used to the stinging sensation as it took a while to even dim down. He ended up thinking back on what the fire investigators had said in the hopes of being able to tie it back to his own case.

From what he had heard, they had concluded that it was definitely a gas fire. There was some speculation from where the source was: they had considered it to have been started with a gas stove left leaking, but to the extent it spread there would have had to be other sources of flammable gas to have leaked throughout the most populated areas of the prison. Either way, the fire itself was most likely planned out beforehand.

Shane seriously wondered how the hell the firefighters and paramedics actually managed through the entire event.  _ They  _ were the ones who had to go through the scene and find the dead, find the ruins, find the suffering. Shane only caught a  _ glimpse  _ of what they undoubtedly were made to see, and he was already deeply unsettled by the sight of the one prisoner.

Now that he thought of it, Ryan was actually a huge help. Shane had admittedly gone a bit loopy as he waltzed into the burning building, and Ryan actually managed to keep his head and do his job along with staying with Shane the entire time. Ryan only left Shane’s side when Shane insisted on going home. 

God knows what the hospital would have done for him, as they were most definitely overcrowded now. That, and he even heard talk of some critical cases that were going to be flown out to some of the larger hospitals in Boston. Then, of course, all of the fatalities from the fire. Sara was going to have one hell of a field day.

At this point, Shane was definitely wasting hot water. He had been standing there, thinking, for quite a while now. A vague thought crossed his mind that he’d charge the station with both his hospital and water bill, and perhaps therapy even after that.

The bathroom door clicked, and an overwhelming horror washed throughout Shane. No one else lived inside of his house, and there shouldn’t have been any wind to shut the door by itself like that. He most certainly felt as if he were about to reenact an entire scene from  _ Psycho _ .

“Who’s there?” he croaked, throat still raspy from earlier. Never had he realized how vulnerable someone could be naked and wet, as if his downfall could be as simple as slipping and knocking himself unconscious before the murderer could even get to him. 

Now that he was actively listening to his surroundings past the shower, everything felt eerily silent. His fight-or-flight sense was back from the morning, and he had to actively keep from not panicking. Anxiety prickled uncomfortably under his skin, but he couldn’t get out of the situation without investigating.

Turning off the shower, all Shane could hear were his own footsteps, the bathroom fan, and the occasional droplet. Shane was confident that he had heard the bathroom door click close, but with the lack of movement otherwise it could have very well just been his imagination. Firmly trying to make himself believe that that was the case, he slammed the shower door open and stepped out.

Quite unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case whatsoever. As he turned to stare at himself in the foggy mirror, he was greeted with letters painted into on its surface from the water vapour. Since the room was already starting to cool off, the words had become even more sinister themselves as droplets of water smeared their edges and melted their shapes down. The handwriting was foreign to anything Shane had ever seen before.

_ You will be saved. _

The impact of the words threw Shane against the far wall, making him crumple to the ground. They burned into his eyes, and he felt an impulse to escape from them. Even though they had no direct context to them, Shane knew exactly where they came from, and it made him want to gag and vomit right there and then.

One of the most sickening thoughts was how the author of these words was only a yard away from Shane in such a vulnerable state just a few moments ago. It was a wonder how Shane hadn’t heard them beforehand - perhaps he had had a coughing fit as they entered. This could have been the closest they were to Shane -  _ John Novel himself _ \- and Shane never even noticed. The mere thought both enraged and terrified him.

Luckily his phone had remained untouched on an adjacent shelf, but it still took Shane a few tries to get a photo of words that wasn’t blurry (after wrapping a towel around himself of course). He still wasn’t sure whether or not to bring it into the office, as the criminal was now delving into a more personal level that Shane was definitely not comfortable with. He decided he would wait and think about it a bit more, or maybe show it to Ryan or Steven or Sara first.

Shane made sure that every single window and door was tightly locked as soon as he was out of the bathroom. Still unsettled from the words (that he had left up on the mirror in case he could gather fingerprint evidence - which he doubted since this criminal seemed to like to use gloves), Shane threw on a hoodie and some sweatpants before grabbing his keys and going out to his  car.

 

He had parked the car along the gas station before rushing out into the wooded area, knowing exactly where he was headed. With dusk already being in full swing, Shane was forced to take out his phone flashlight to be able to see his path.

Spotting the strange lamppost almost immediately, some sort of relief washed over him, as if he had expected the lamppost itself to truly be some sort of mirage. Yet here it stood in all of its glory, laying in a bed of spearmint with a morning glory or two curled around its post. He collapsed down beside it, basking in the peace and stability it radiated.

There could have very well been someone watching him, but Shane still felt safer sat beside that old lamppost than in his own house. It was as if Mother Nature offered him minimal protection, concealing him from the rest of the world.

It was so much easier to clear his thoughts here rather than in the shower. Fresh, crushed mint underneath him filled his nose, its spicy scent relaxing him. Water from the stream trickled down its path, and dozens of frogs chirped around the wooded area, filling the hidden field with noise. It was a wonder how so many were still there considering the toxins that had been released with the explosion just a week ago. If anything, the area was almost greener, overflowing with vegetation by the creek.

Taking a few leaves of mint, Shane chewed at them absently, their flavour bursting in his mouth. Branches crunched behind him, accompanied with the twittering of sparrows. Just as he grew lost in his own thoughts, the mysterious lamppost above him flickered to life.

_ Shane was hesitant to leave the sights of his guardian, but Stevie was insistent on them exploring the hidden grove in the park. _

_ “It’s fine!” he insisted, tugging Shane along by the arm. Shane glanced back, and saw that Stevie’s mother was completely immersed in chatting with other moms on the park bench. Scrunching up his face, he let himself be dragged away. _

_ “Why can’t we explore over there?” Shane asked falteringly. Stevie didn’t even give him a second glance as they wandered into the trees. The shadows of the leaves enveloped them, concealing them from their guardian’s view. _

_ “We’re playing explorers!” he exclaimed gleefully, only letting go of Shane to run up to a funny-looking tree. “We can’t be explorers if we don’t find somewhere new!” _

_ “Yeah but I’m older and I’m saying this isn’t a good idea.” _

_ “Yeah, but I’m turning 6 right after we go to grade 1. Plus look at this!” He had a large leaf in his hands, twirling it around and gazing at it in awe. Somehow, the sun filtered through the trees and underneath his baseball cap in just a way that his eyes shined. “A treasure!” _

_ “That’s a new one,” Shane pointed out, peering at its colour. It was still bright since autumn hadn’t quite arrived yet, and still wouldn’t for a couple weeks.  _

_ “I wonder what else there is?” Stevie wondered, attention almost immediately straying as he searched his new surroundings. Complying, Shane scanned the area for more treasures. Perhaps there were some cool rocks that other kids had missed in the vegetation. _

_ “Hey Shane?” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Have you ever thought about becoming real explorers?” _

_ “You mean like grown-up explorers?” _

_ “Yeah!” The thought greatly excited Stevie, and he bounced on the balls of his feet as he entertained the idea. “Don’t you think it would be cool?” _

_ “But what can we explore?” _

_ “Hmm…” Stevie thought for quite a while. He even scaled up a tree to sit on a strong branch, swinging his legs back and forth as he pondered his potential future. Shane frowned up at him, frustrated that he had easily gained the extra height. Not like he needed it - Stevie was easily taller than Shane, and one of the tallest in their grade. “How about mountains? I don’t think they’re all taken.” _

_ “Wouldn’t it get really cold?” Shane thought, clambering up onto a slightly shorter tree. Stevie’s face fell back into consideration momentarily. _

_ “Oceans?” _

_ “I don’t like swimming.” _

_ “Space?” _

_ “Maybe.” _

_ “Ooh! How about scary places?” _

_ “Scary places?” Shane instantly became curious. “Like what?” _

_ “Like where ghosts live!” Stevie exclaimed. “We could be real actual monster hunters… like in Scooby Doo! That would be so cool!” _

_ “Wouldn’t you get scared?” Shane teased his friend. “Because I wouldn’t.” _

_ “No I won’t!” Stevie insisted. Somehow he hopped down from the branch without hurting himself, just to give a shove to Shane. Shane had to catch himself before falling forward, tackling Stevie to the ground. The two rolled around in the dirt for a bit, roughhousing and taking jabs at each other. They only stopped when Shane spotted a rock with glittering minerals poking through, distracting them both enough for his hands to grab ahold of it. _

_ “A crystal!” he exclaimed, greedily grasping it in the palm of his hand. _

_ “Aw, lucky,” Stevie frowned, quickly looking over his own stash. “I’ll trade you for the pencil I found on the playground.” _

_ “No way Jose. Finders keepers.” _

_ Stevie stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re a meanie.” _

_ Not quite wanting to leave their tiny hidden world they had just discovered, they found a flat area with a bit of warm summer sun pouring down over it to sit. Each sat up against a rock, they examined their treasures for the millionth time that day. _

_ “Do you think there’s a way we could stay together forever?” Stevie asked suddenly, inspecting a large pinecone he had found earlier. _

_ “Like marrying?” _

_ “No. Like for friends.” _

_ “Oh. Okay.” Shane inspected another rock of his.  _

_ “Then we could both be explorers forever.” _

_ “That would be really fun. You wanna do that, right?” _

_ “Hmm… I’d have to ask my mom.” _

_ “Me too… but what if she says yes?” _

_ “Of course I want to,” Shane claimed indignantly. “Space monster hunter explorers!” _

_ “Space monster hunter explorers!” _

_ Shane stood up, holding an imaginary radio to his mouth. “Kshhht. Commander Stevie, Commander Stevie, do you hear me?” _

_ Stevie popped up to his own feet. “Kshht. Commander Stevie here. Commander Shane, do you have a new mission?” _

_ “Kshhht. Yes I do.” _

_ “Actually, can I be called Commander S? It sounds cooler.” _

_ “No. I wanna be Commander S.” _

_ “Fine. Then I’ll be Captain S.” _

_ “No fair. That sounds cooler.” _

_ “You can be Captain S if you give me your crystal.” _

_ “Fine. Kshht, Captain S? Someone saw a big green monster underneath the slide. Are you ready to go investigate?” _

_ “Investi- OH. Kshht. Yes Commander S. On it.” _

_ “Kshht. Meet back at this tree in forty oh one.” Shane had no idea what he was actually saying, but it made him sound very professional. He hoped Stevie would buy it. _

_ Successfully running around the jungle gym back in the open again, they jumped and rolled and clambered around the area of the slide, pretending to fight a big green monster from underneath the slide. Shane was honestly having the time of his life, and nothing could make him feel more elated than working with Stevie. He only stopped when Stevie began running back to the grove, rushing to follow and keep up. _

_ “I believe that was successful, Commander S,” he stated, beaming. Stevie was bent over his knees, trying to catch his breath. Shane was in a similar sort of position. _

_ “I think so, Captain S.” _

_ Stevie straightened up after a few moments, Shane following in suit. Noticing Shane’s movements, Stevie puffed out his chest slightly, standing up even taller. Shane tried to make himself taller for a few seconds before giving up. _

_ “I’m almost taller than you,” he defended himself, crossing his arms. _

_ Stevie smirked. “No you aren’t. I’m wayyyy taller than you.” _

_ Pouting, Shane stared at the ground beside them. The approaching evening cast long shadows around them, and Stevie’s figure still reached slightly farther than Shane’s. “I’ll grow taller than you. Mom says I’ll have a growth spurt when I’m older.” _

_ “Uh uh.” Stevie sat down, stretching out to relax for a bit. “I’ll always be taller than you.” _

* * *

 

_ Shane did, in fact, surpass Stevie in height a mere two years later. _

_ He wouldn’t know that, of course.  _

_ As by that time, Stevie would be long gone from Shane’s otherwise peaceful life. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im apparently staying overnight at the """farm""" (plot of land we have outside of the city - That Alberta Aesthetic TM) tmrw for victoria day, and im debating whether i can squeeze in writing sbp and mercy over there. either way, i really wanna get caught up on the schedule cause some Good Shit (for me lol) happens in the next few chapters ;)))


	9. A Look Into The Psychological Effects Of An Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations continues to cause mayhem, and Shane has to start thinking more about the personal impact the case is having on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i catching up BUT IM BACK,,, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT,,,
> 
> FIRST UP - YALL GO CHECK OUT THIS [I N C R E D I B L E ART MY FRIEND JULIETTE DREW OF MERCY](http://ivegotnoromeo.tumblr.com/post/174291325733/buzzfeed-unsolved-detective-au-hell-yeah-should)  
> shes super talented and ive been staring at it for the past 3 weeks and even have it saved as my homescreen please go shower her with compliments
> 
> AND ANOTHER BIG THANKS TO THE REAL MVP OF THIS FIC, NINA ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) ), WHOSE ALWAYS SO WILLING TO BETA FOR ME ILY
> 
> also in case ur interested, [i made myself a spotify playlist that i use to write mercy with or disassociate](https://open.spotify.com/user/universalsatan/playlist/1tNvs7YZmbS8dZ8Os6kzP1?si=TCGqK187RoOVq4AaiYDVKA) in case you want some vibes and the such :D

It was only Tuesday morning, and everyone was already visibly exhausted from yesterday’s events. Hell, they had been anxious the day before, but the fire really exceeded any expectations citizens of Mercy had of Revelations. It left them with an apprehensive feeling like no other:  _ raw terror. _

Shane almost found it amusing that he was the only one in the office that had received an extra little surprise on top of everything else last night. His phone burned a hole in his pocket simply from the knowledge of what was stored at the end of his camera roll. Instead of being able to work properly, his concentration flitted between person to person, wondering who on earth he could tell about it - if anyone.

Adam was surprisingly calm throughout the entire ordeal. Even now, it would be nearly impossible to tell that anything had happened by his face alone, save for the occasional fidget of his pen or the bite of his lip. Andrew hadn’t even made it to the office that morning (as he was most likely getting treatment for his burns), but Steven had rushed in late with a caffeine high. That being said, Steven actually went and sat himself at his desk and started working, so even if Shane would talk to him, it wouldn’t be right away.

There was also Ryan that of whom Shane could talk to. His demeanor was comforting and familiar to Shane, despite having only known him for a week.  _ God _ , they had only met two Sundays ago now. With everything that had happened, it felt like years had gone by. Perhaps he was still enough of a stranger to discuss the mirror incident with without any repercussions. Shane had to shake himself out of his thoughts as he realized Ryan himself was approaching him.

“Bennett’s gotten another call,” he told him, speaking quietly. “He wants us to be on it. He thinks it has to do with the case.”

Shane sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly as he leaned on his desk. “Already? What is it this time?”

“It’s nothing as bad as last time,” Ryan assured before hesitating slightly. “You… you heard about the robbery last night, right?”

“Yeah... just a bit though.” Because of all the commotion the day before, there had been a robbery in a warehouse that stored toxic chemicals that had gone relatively under the radar of the police force. It wasn’t too concerning to them at the moment compared to the fire, but they had managed to collect video evidence from security cameras as the incident was going on. Shane was currently pulling up the clips from the shared folder in the computer system. “Is it connected?”

Ryan nodded. “He’s been murdered.”

Shane blinked, completely taken aback by the statement. A grainy but surprisingly clear image of a man infiltrating a warehouse looped on screen. Shane could just barely pick out enough features from the screen to recognize him.

“ _ Him _ ?” he gaped, pointing to the man, who had almost kicked down the door to get in. 

“Yes, him,” Ryan confirmed patiently.

“Why would they murder someone on  _ their side _ ?” Shane muttered under his breath. He switched videos, now watching the robber taking back…  _ something _ . Whatever it was, there was a lot of it. Enough for a few trips - the rest of the tapes had that confirmed.

“No idea. That’s probably why Bennett wants us to go check it out.”

“Is he coming with us?”

“Yes. I believe he’s already waiting in the car for us. Just one out in front.”

“Perfect. After you, shortcakes.” Shane stood up and gestured for Ryan to go ahead of him, who responded with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. He made sure to close everything on his computer and lock it before following him out of the office.

Sliding some shades on that he had, he slid into the backseat with Ryan and immediately addressed Chief Bennett, who was driving. “Where to, cabbie?” Shane could hear Ryan stifle a laugh beside him with a snort, and Bennett glared at him through the rearview mirror - or at least that was what Shane thought he was doing, as it was difficult to see his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“The body was found behind an abandoned warehouse, on the edge of the...  _ city  _ once again,” Bennett replied, not bothering to wait for Shane or Ryan to buckle in before driving off.

“You use the term  _ ‘city’  _ loosely,” Ryan pointed out.

Shane responded for him. “Chief used to work in Providence... and even in Springfield for a little while. Mercy in comparison is like the city council had to beg the state to let it be called a city.”

“I only came to Mercy because it offered a good position, and it wasn’t too far from where I was placed before,” Bennett continued, gesturing with one hand but keeping the other on the wheel. “I honestly thought it was going to be a lower-stress job, but this case is really giving us a run for their money. How about your position? Where did you say you worked again?”

Bennett was busy making a left turn, but Shane stared at Ryan, also curiously awaiting his answer. Ryan frowned a bit, taking a while to think, so Shane piped up for him, trying to snap him out of his daze.

“You said Washington, correct?” Shane urged, “When we first met?”

Ryan shook his head quickly as if to snap himself out of something. “Oh, yes, sorry. Yes, I was working down around Washington D.C. for a bit as an FBI. I… suppose there wasn’t a lot going on either, I don’t know if that was the same as you.”

“You were going back home through Mercy? So far east?” Bennett queried, tone slightly prying.

“Yes,” Ryan confirmed, completely recovered from whatever daze he had been caught up in before. “My home state is New Hampshire.”

“Really?” Shane asked. “What’s up there?”

“Better than what you have down here.”

“And what would that be?” Shane challenged, suddenly ready to one-up whatever Ryan had.

“Really beautiful national forests… the best outdoors you can find anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?  _ Well- _ ”

“Is that why you liked going through Mercy?” Bennett interrupted their petty argument. “Not many people come through here for connections… only if they know the area.”

“Something like that,” Ryan responded, also ignoring Shane, much to Shane’s chagrin. “I’ll admit I got a little bit lost at some point, but I veered off based on where I was attracted. Is that also why you were attracted here?”

“I do like the wilderness here. I’ve been up to New Hampshire a few times, and it really is quite a charm. Oh, and we’re almost at the site now boys.”

“How was the robber murdered?”

“Shot to the head,” Bennett waved off, pulling up beside the old warehouse before parking. “You’ll see as soon as we’re on-scene.”

Shane left the two to walk together with the mild frustration from just before. The scene was easy enough to find, as he could still hear some minor officers keeping a watch on the crime scene. When he rounded the corner, a much larger area than he expected was taped off, and he had to go around for a bit before ducking down to enter the scene with caution.

“We had to block off a lot because of the debris,” one of the officers explained. He looked rather shell-shocked at having to stay at the scene, and Shane watched him blankly before approaching the body. “Be careful where you step, but I doubt we can get much from the prints the murderer left.”

The other officers stayed back - behind the police tape, even - while Shane went right up to the body. He was no forensic pathologist, but he could find his fair share of inferences just by investigating the scene. Shane regretted not bringing any latex gloves with him, but he could easily make do without.

“How long ago did you find him like this?” he asked, staring down at the still flattened grass in front of the dead body.

“Only an hour ago,” another officer replied. “And it was still fresh when we got here.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

The body of the man that Shane could distinctly recognize as the robber on the security camera tapes was lying straight down with very little disturbance in his fall. By his feet, the grass was flattened out quite a bit further than where his feet would have stood, implying that someone had been standing directly in front of him. It had also stayed down for quite a while, so they had probably been standing to talk with the victim for a while before the murder took place. Because of the way the robber fell, it was evident they had died completely willingly, or at least didn’t fight their way down.

Crouching down to investigate the head, Shane bent over as much as he could without falling over. The man’s eyes were eerily half-closed, and he had a gaping hole in the centre of his forehead. There was a bit of blood around it, but there was more chemical burning than anything, along with some tattooing of the muzzle. A good portion of the blood was leaking underneath him into the ground, and Shane could spot bits of brain scattered in the overgrown grass behind him - which is why the police tape had been stretched so far. The accuracy of the shot was impeccable, and judging by where the other grass prints were with an empty casing rolled to the side and the tattooing, the muzzle had evidently been pressed right up against the robber’s forehead.

“Do you know who this person had any relations to?” Shane asked the Chief, who was now silently watching behind him. He stepped back to stand by Bennett’s side.

“We don’t know too much yet,” he mused, scanning the victim and their surprisingly at peace face. “It may be a little difficult to identify him, but at least we can try and trace the bullet.”

“Did you find the bullet?”

“Bergara has a good eye. Found it lodged in a tree.”

“Oh, perfect. So we can trace it from there?”

“Well, we don’t have the serial number for the gun, but hopefully we can look a bit more into it, yes. We just need to wait for the lab techs to arrive now. Did you find anything interesting?” Shane explained his theories to him. “Sounds plausible. We can go off from there for now, unless someone else finds anything differently.”

“And? What about the things he robbed? Why would he be so gracious in his death when he had just stolen so much?”

“Working for  _ them _ , Madej,” Bennett explained, shaking a pointer finger. “Why else would it be such a selfless death?”

“Blackmail perhaps?” Shane thought to himself, quickly adding on to his point. “But most likely from Revelations themselves. With their whole justice policy? What was even stolen from the facility anyhow?”

“Chlorine-based pool cleaners,” Bennett said, eyeing Ryan, who was now returning to them. “Some model engine fuel too. Typical bomb materials.”

“This sounds like big-city knowledge.”

“It really is. They get terrified of this shit. And I suppose we now have every right to.”

“Do we have everything we need?” Ryan interrupted them, brushing his hands off on his trenchcoat. 

“Yup,” Shane smirked, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers. “Blood, brains, and all.”

Ryan grimaced. “Did you really examine the body without any gloves on?”

“You bet I did,” Shane exclaimed, stepping forward to  _ ‘clean’  _ his hands off on Ryan’s coat. He barely missed his shoulder as Ryan made a desperate attempt to get away from him. Shane managed to grab ahold of his arm and wipe his hands on it aggressively before revealing to Ryan that there really was nothing on them.

Chief Bennett watched the entire ordeal with minimal amusement, sighing as they continued to roughhouse. “Let’s just get going, before you two ruin any evidence.”

 

* * *

 

At that point it was almost to be expected, but tensions were high in the office again. The three of them noticed the second they walked in, partly by the way everyone was crowded around Daysha and her computer. Even Adam seemed worried, and he was standing just behind her, staring at the computer screen she was working with.

“What’s wrong?” Bennett immediately barked out, running behind the commotion to see what was going on. “Bianchi, what happened?”

Adam pointed to the screen Daysha was working on. “Someone powerful has managed to hack into the system. I have no idea how, but they’re way better than any of us, and what they’re doing is beyond the knowledge Daysha and I have. They have already gained access to a lot of the lower security files.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Brent cussed under his breath, which almost surprised a few of the newer patrol officers present. He ran his hand over his ginger beard as if it would help him think clearly. “Not anything important though, correct?”

“Not that I can tell,” Daysha murmured, not taking her eyes away from her screen. “Only smaller reports and minor security footage. Nothing classified as of yet.”

“Did you click on anything weird?” Shane asked, trying his best to implement his limited knowledge. He tried to sneak in and get a good look at the screen, but Ryan squeezed between him and the scene and studied the computer instead.

“I think it’s from the USB I plugged in,” she explained, gesturing briefly to a USB that had been tossed on the desk. Still, she kept her eyes on the screen and her fingers flying across the keyboard. “I thought it was the information on the case, but as soon as it got access to the computer, I’m pretty sure there’s been a virus if not a Trojan Horse released into the system. That’s about the extent of knowledge I have with computers though.”

“Did you see anything inside the USB?”

She shook her head. “There was one folder in there labelled  _ ‘Revelations’ _ , but I couldn’t access it. That might have been what released it…”

“Overwrite virus,” Ryan interrupted suddenly. “It won’t let you access the files and will only go away if you delete them.”

“Well at least we have a good idea who’s in our system now,” Shane muttered, referencing the folder name. 

“Part of it sounds like a boot sector virus,” Ryan continued, moving his way around everyone so that he was directly beside Daysha. “Do you mind if I take over? I have a feeling I might be able to match the hacker.”

“Feeling?” Bennett scrunched up his face skeptically. “ _ Might _ ?”

“Well it’s the best damn chance we have right now,” he retorted, immediately sitting down and opening a program as soon as Daysha moved. “Unless you have any better suggestions?” The Chief remained silent, realizing the real severity of the situation.

Shane was enthralled by seeing his coworker fight against the hacker, despite his entire chest feeling like lead just at the thought of the situation. The system Ryan had booted up was some sort of code access, and Shane didn’t understand a lick of what he was doing. Ryan kept on muttering things under his breath, but the slight reflection in the screen revealed just how glazed his eyes were with concentration. 

“Any update?” Shane murmured after a few minutes, leaning over the office chair Ryan was sat at. Ryan’s head twitched away from Shane for a second due to his face probably being too close, but he recovered quickly and ended up trying to explain some of the gibberish he was working with.

“So it’s looking more like a worm than a virus, which is not too good since they can usually infiltrate better by themselves,” he nodded to the screen, typing out a string of numbers. “The thing is that they’re polymorphic, so it’s really fucking difficult to get ahold of them and manage them, and even when I do if I let one slip through my fingers then it just slides into oblivion again. I’ve had to go into the script host to work with everything directly, which is why it looks so exhausting and confusing. And there is definitely a Trojan Horse in here-”

“ _ That _ I do know,” Shane replied confidently, and Ryan made a weak attempt at a laugh as a slightly accented breath.

“Yeah, okay. Anyway, because Daysha managed to lock the database and shared files on the entire office system before anything could really be set loose, the hacker is still trying to crack those as I’m trying to get the worms under control. It’s just… There’s so much going on right now and it’s super frustrating but I have… I have the strangest feeling that this hacker’s… style? It’s familiar.”

“How can a hacker’s style be familiar?”

“I dunno. I just feel like I know what they’re going to do next.”

“It’s your super psychic senses,” Shane grinned, tapping the side of Ryan’s head lightly. “What’s in it for my future?”

“Go away,” Ryan grumbled, “You’re just going to make everything worse.”

Since Shane really had nothing to argue against that, he went to go mope over by his desk, still stealing a few glances over to try and gauge Ryan’s progress. Evidently, this process became rather tiresome, so Shane decided to go find Steven instead and finally tell him about the incident last night.

“Hey,” Shane greeted him, grabbing Steven’s arm as he was leaving the break room, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Can we talk?”

“Did I do something wrong?” Steven asked, face morphing with confusion. Now that Shane was closer to him, he could see just how tired he was behind his eyes and how his shoulders sagged. Shane loosened his grip on Steven’s arm slightly.

“Can we go somewhere else?” he pleaded, glancing around their surroundings. “Not here.”

Steven laughed lightly, but with slight worry. “Okay, so are you going to murder me now?” he teased, small smile instantly slipping away as he studied Shane. “Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t have to do with you,” he assured, already leading him out a back door so they could talk behind the building. “I just need to tell someone.”

Steven didn’t speak another word the entire way out. Though it was still easily midday, their figures were hidden by the shadows of the office building, concealing them from everything else. Shane stood in front of his friend for a long time, staring off into the distance as he willed himself to continue. He delicately rubbed the burn blisters on his hands in hesitation before finally taking his phone out of his pocket.

“Is it about the case?” Steven eventually piped up, eyeing Shane’s phone. He had gotten slightly antsy waiting. “Oh, but I don’t want to rush you or anything.”

“It has to do with the case,” Shane finally admitted, letting the statement out in an exhale. He refrained from glancing up as he opened the photos app, pausing briefly before opening the picture. Before he could get a good enough look at it, he handed his phone to Steven. Steven cradled it in his hands, and his expression grew muddled with confusion and horror as he processed what he was seeing.

“Did you write that?”

“I was taking a shower,” Shane chewed out, desperately scanning Steven’s face to dissect every reaction. “And when I got out… that was there. Just… on my mirror.”

“Did… did you hear them?”

“All I heard was the door click shut.”

Steven was silently mouthing  _ ‘You will be saved’ _ to himself, clicking Shane’s phone shut and handing it back to him. “Fuck, dude, are you alright? I don’t know how I would have been able to cope if it were me.”

“I’m barely coping, Steven.”

“Okay, fair,” he giggled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you do have a pretty good idea of who did it… right?”

“And I’m sure you do too.”

“Yeah… yeah I do.”

“What… what should I _do_?” Shane’s voice was tinier than he thought he said it, and it was on the verge of cracking. He hated himself for breaking already, and so _easily_.

“Hey, dude,” Steven stepped closer suddenly, voice soothing and bringing an arm around him to rub him on the back. “ _ Shane _ . It’ll be alright.”

“ _ Fuck, I fucking hope so. _ ”

“I…” Steven became at a loss of words for a few seconds before thinking of something. “Do you wanna stay at my place? I don’t think…  _ they  _ would be connected to me. You’ll probably be a lot safer in my house.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to leave my place right now.”

“Alright…” Steven trailed off skeptically. He kept on rubbing Shane’s back. “Well, feel free to turn up at any point; my doors are always open.”

“Thanks man. I really appreciate it, I really do.” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to rid himself of any wetness that had gathered in frustration. “You know that I always have ears for you too if you ever need it. That is, of course, if you would ever need it. You seem pretty strong so far.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the one getting the blunt of the case, and this is the most you’ve broken down over the past two weeks. I got a bit worried about Andrew yesterday and was already starting to lose it.”

“Perspective, Steven - it’s all about perspective. Because of where I mentally am now, it’s  _ your  _ calming demeanor that I can idolize as strength. Strength never comes in the same form.”

Steven gaped at him for a while, slightly in awe. Grinning, he moved his hand to grab his shoulder instead.

“Thanks, Shane. But you should talk to Sara. Not because… well, not just for support at least. About the evidence. Maybe she could help more with that?”

Shane nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been considering that. I’m pretty sure John Novel used gloves anyhow, so I’m not sure how effective gathering  _ ‘evidence’  _ will be.”

“It’s worth a shot though.”

“Probably.”

“Well, let’s get back inside. Someone might be looking for us, and we should check how Ryan’s doing with the hacker.”

“Oh yeah, of course. And I’ll probably go and see Sara before the end of the day.”

“That’s good.”

No one seemed to be looking for them, which was probably a good thing. That being said, Shane didn’t fail to notice how Ryan was glancing around the room quickly as he paused in his work. He just barely managed to catch Shane and Steven coming back, but he quickly turned back to his work. Amused, Shane went to go see if he needed anything.

“How’s progress lookin’?” Everything displayed on the computer screen still failed to make any sense to Shane. 

“I got most of the worms under control now, but the Trojan Horse is still loose and the hacker’s almost gotten through to the shared database,” Ryan briefly pointed to his screen as he explained, “I just need to make sure everything else stays secure and make it harder for the hacker to get through.” His arm dropped back down so that he could continue typing. His concentration lagged back to the computer screen, to which Shane stared intently at.

“Ah.”

“And? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What were you doing with Steven?” Ryan’s voice was relatively monotone, but it wavered slightly, much to Shane’s amusement. He had no idea what his intention was behind his words.

“I was speaking with him,” he replied bluntly, suddenly not as eager to share with Ryan what had happened last night just yet. Ryan bit his lip, but his eyes didn’t leave the desktop monitor once.

“You were speaking with him?”

“Am I not allowed to?”

“You two disappeared for quite a bit.”

“We were only gone for five minutes tops.”

“Is that not a long time?”

“Not really, no.”

Ryan sat silent for a while, occasionally typing something or clicking his mouse. Though Shane was crouched down to be level with him, he didn’t even spare a glance to his coworker. Shane could almost see that perhaps Ryan was struggling with something behind his eyes.

“What were you two talking about?” he asked, nonchalant. 

“Just something.”

“What?” he pried teasingly, “You won’t tell me?”

“... Not now.”

“That means you’re never going to tell me, right?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Does it have something to do with the case?”

“Depends.”

Ryan scrunched up his face, curling his hands into fists momentarily before consciously trying to relax himself. “Then why can’t you tell  _ me _ ?” He actually whipped over to face Shane, searching his face for his reasoning. “Why tell Steven and not me?”

“I know Steven better,” he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve only know you for just over a week now.” Ryan sat and stared at him, gaping like a fish. Shane was too busy trying to discern his thoughts to be too concerned about how long they sat there like that: Ryan turned away from the hacker and Shane crouched down beside him. Finally, Ryan’s lips pressed into a thin line before he swivelled around suddenly, hands flying back to the keyboard. His posture instantly tensed as soon as he saw some update Shane didn’t understand on the computer screen.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he cursed, just underneath his breath. Though he didn’t show it externally, his voice was laced with panic.

“What?” Shane urged, straightening up slightly, “What happened?”

“Someone...” Ryan gestured, losing his train of thought as he typed furiously. “That person got into the database.”

“Oh  _ fuck _ .”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he reasoned desperately, mostly talking to himself. “Of course, they just got into the lowest security files, but there’s public privacy at risk now and oh god they can see it all and it’ll be all my fucking fault-”

“It’s not your fault-” Shane tried to tell him before getting interrupted.

“Well if it’s not mine then it’s  _ yours _ ,” he bursted, shooting a glare back at him, not daring to let his concentration slip for even a millisecond anymore. “It’s  _ one  _ of our faults that the progress wasn’t being monitored.”

“Don’t be like that Ry-”

“ _ Just shut up, Shane! _ ” Ryan spat, lowering his voice slightly as he realized just how loud he had been. “Either way, you’re not helping. Just… go and talk with Steven or something. I don’t care.” After the words had left his mouth, he sighed heavily and ran a temporarily free hand through his hair, brushing any extra strands of hair out of his eyes. Shane had already stood up and backed away a few steps, not willing to further interfere with whatever Ryan was doing or going through.

As much as Ryan’s mood confused Shane, it also really pissed him off. He had tried his best to reason with his unpredictably sudden attitude, but in the end it had been futile. Not only that, but Shane was also starting to feel as if it was indeed partially his fault that the hacker had managed to partially access the shared database. Frustrated, Shane grabbed his sweater and stormed out of the office, finding a work car that he could use to go visit the hospital.

He fumed the entire way to the hospital. His movements were harsher and jerkier, and his mind kept on straying to Ryan’s goddamn tone. Maybe it could be a little bit of Shane’s fault, but why was he putting the blame on him? Shane slammed the door shut probably a little harder than he should have, and shoved the keys deep into a sweater pocket. Trembling slightly, he opened a discreet door that lead him directly to the morgue.

The hospital during the day was a lot more lively, even though Shane was in the more private areas. Nurses and techs bustled around with equipment or on their ways to somewhere or another, and he had to put a little bit of an effort to keep a slightly more friendly face on as he weaved through that crowd. A few nurses greeted him, but he only nodded back as he continued down the long and winding halls.

No one was out in front, so Shane let himself into the lab. He could already see Kevin bustling about and working with some lab equipment, but he had to search just a bit longer to be able to spot the person he was looking for huddled up in a corner, observing a whirring machine and taking notes.

“Sara’s super into her work right now,” Kevin commented just as he passed Shane, “I’m not sure how lucky you’ll be if you try and talk to her.”

“It’s an emergency,” Shane urged, impatiently pressing forward. Pausing momentarily, he attempted to push his frustration away from earlier. “I… You must be busy here in the lab, with all the… victims. From yesterday.”

Kevin nodded in confirmation, pushing up his glasses with the back of his hand. “It’s insane. I’ve never been so exhausted except for while I was still studying. It’s super mentally taxing, dude.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” His eyes glazed over as he caught sight of some lumpy body bags on various tables in the lab. Brief but traumatic scenes from yesterday flitted past his eyes, and he had to forcibly blink them away as he concentrated on the current mission. “Well, good luck then.”

“You too.”

Sara really was super engrossed in her work, or whatever she was doing. Hair escaping her ponytail fell into her eyes and around her glasses frames, and she kept on rubbing her eyes underneath her lenses. It was like she could tell Shane was approaching from a mile away, because she held up her hand as he got too close.

“I’m super busy right now,” Sara deadpanned, not taking her eyes away from the machine. “Whatever it is will have to wait.”

Shane stepped back and chose to spectate. He dragged an adjacent stool closer to her, perching atop of the cushion to be able to try and guess what she was doing or writing. Using lab equipment wasn’t really his forte. 

Though he considered the old lamp post a haven for himself, it wasn’t like he couldn’t find peace elsewhere. There was the obvious and impending morbidity hanging in the air of the morgue, but watching Sara’s movements and listening to the smaller machine whirl was almost therapeutic. It helped dissipate some of the irritation he had felt towards Ryan before.

Her movements eventually slowed, as did the whirring of the machine, and she was making her last few notes before swivelling on her chair to face Shane. “So what was it that you needed, tall guy?”

Shane shifted on his spot, wrapping his arms around his knees the best someone could do sitting on a stool. He glanced around their direct vicinity, but thankfully Kevin was off a ways away doing some more tests and paperwork.

“Is it serious?” Sara continued, pushing her glasses up her nose. Her eyes were slightly prying but gentle enough, and Shane was eternally grateful to have her as a friend.

“It depends,” Shane hummed, still avoiding her gaze. He took out his phone again, finding the photo still open as soon as he unlocked it. Without any hesitation, he handed his phone to Sara. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the image, brow furrowing in concentration. “It happened last night,” he explained.

“Have you told anyone about it?”

“Only Steven.”

“What did he say?”

“He just worried about it, but I was grateful for someone else to know other than just me. He also said that I should tell you too.”

“But what about the rest of the investigators?”

He shook his head. “I don’t really feel ready to share this with the world. It feels too personal.” The entire situation itself stripped him naked like how he had been back then. It was raw and dug into a further understanding that even he wasn’t aware about. He wasn’t about to just spread that goddamn phrase to the entire police force. “Plus I trust you enough, and you’re the one who can help take any necessary tests.”

“I don’t know how  _ much _ I can actually take,” she frowned, still studying the image. “Maybe a swab?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Shane admitted, “But I had the feeling that they were still using gloves. They’ve been super inconspicuous so far.”

“Well it’s worth a try, I suppose,” she mused, finally clicking off his phone and handing it back to him. “It’s pretty hectic in the lab right now, but we should probably go now if we wanna get anything.”

“Thanks Sara. I really appreciate it… I really do, you know.”

“I’m always here to help,” she smiled softly, leaning forward to pat his shoulder, “And I’m sure everyone else is. Steven, Andrew, Bennett, Ryan-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane rolled his eyes, mostly at the last two names she mentioned. “I’ll only ask when I really need it.”

“You’re allowed to depend on others, Shane.” And with that, she cleaned up her area briefly, shoving her notebook across the lab bench. “Let’s go. I just need to grab a few things, but I’ll be right out.” 

“I’ll have the car right at the usual door.” Sara was drifting away already as Shane spoke, so he put his mind to actually going to the work car. 

Shane tried his best not to dwell too much on his anxious thoughts, but there was only so much one could do to stop the flow of memories. His brain kept on fabricating visuals of the intruder writing their message on his mirror while he was showering from what he could see of them from the security camera footage from the gas station. Their face was about as muddled and smeared as the words themselves. Shane shuddered and jumped in his seat when Sara opened the passenger side door.

“You good, Shane?” she asked, noticing how he ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. “You don’t have to go back immediately.”

“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, pulling the car out of park. “I just need to forget about it for now, and I’ll have to go back home as soon as the day is over anyway.”

“They got  _ in  _ your house, Shane.”

“Hm.” Shane stopped speaking for the sake that Sara could make it worse. Yes, it had been true, but Shane was desperate to believe that they had just found an open window. Overanalyzing each aspect of the case would just make it worse. After all, he still wanted to be able to sleep that night. Glancing to the side, he saw that Sara was staring out her door window to the passing houses and trees, lost in thought.

“How’s Ryan?” she thought out loud. Shane didn’t reply the first time, but then Sara sat up and looked directly at him. “How’s Ryan?”

“Oh, you were asking me.”

“Who else would I be asking?”

A lot of the frustration from earlier flooded back to him, his skin prickling with irritation. “He’s fine, I suppose,” he bit out.

“But you don’t seem fine about him.”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in him?”

“He’s your new muse, isn’t he?” she teased. “It’s just… you’ve changed a bit since you’ve met him. Why are you angry at him now?”

“I’m not angry at him,” he sighed, concentrating on making a left turn into his neighbourhood. “He just blew up at me before I left.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was just helping him.”

“Are you sure you were?”

“Well…” he hesitated. The car slowed to a stop in front of his house, and even though he turned it off, they both sat there without moving, still engrossed in their conversation. “He was acting kinda grumpy before but because of the hacker he just… I don’t know. I can’t tell what he’s actually angry about.”

“Ah.” Shane noticed how she refrained from asking about the hacker. No matter; it would probably be a bit difficult to explain with how little he knew about the situation anyhow. “Well in that case… how was your little date with Ryan?”

“ _ My what now? _ ”

“You asked him out for drinks, am I wrong? Or do you owe me $20?”

“No, he came over Sunday evening.”

“And?”

Shane had to weed through the cloud of frustration he felt over Ryan just to remember what had happened then and what he had felt. That evening felt warmer to the touch, and pleasantly fuzzy with the buzz of the alcohol. They had chatted for hours, and though Shane had only sight read that one piece at the time, he had practiced it every moment he could since then because of the special feeling it held. Something about the chords tugged at his heartstrings, and now it would forever remind him of Ryan. 

Ryan, who had suggested it so firmly in the first place. Ryan, who had recounted that it was one of his favourite tunes. Ryan, who watched the entire performance with every little wrong note and fumble with such a happy smile on his face. Ryan, who looked utterly at peace just by listening to Shane. 

By the time Shane realized he still hadn’t answered Sara, that cloud of frustration had almost completely dissipated. 

“It was nice,” he remembered, fighting down a tiny smile that threatened to appear. “Turns out we actually  _ can  _ get along sometimes.”

Sara laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt after Shane finished speaking. “Well, I’m glad it seemed to be worth it. Plus, you don’t seem as mad anymore.”

“It was a pleasant evening. He even gave me something new to play.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“A Gershwin.” He slammed his door shut, locking the car before going around to join Sara. “A hidden gem I’ve never really thought of playing before.”

“You’ll have to play it for me sometime.”

“Maybe.”

It didn’t take Shane too long to open up his front door, but as soon as he did, Sara rushed in with some sort of lab case to the bathroom. She had said a quick something about how she wouldn’t be long, so Shane went around his house to see if anything had been disturbed out of sheer paranoia. 

The living room was quiet, and looked exactly as it had before. The TV was turned off, and every book and knickknack scattered on the mantelpiece and coffee table were exactly where they were before. Every sheet of music around his grand still lay where they were before, Shane noted as he walked by. Even  _ So Am I _ was still propped up at the music rack, the notes dancing off their page as Shane remembered sitting there at his very own piano Sunday evening. 

Shane stared down at the palm of his hands, tracing each blister and red spot with his eyes. He relished the pain he got by even playing the most delicate of pieces last night, hearing how his suffering translated into the tone and colour of his music. Maybe some songs were just a little much, but he thanked the gods above that his burns weren’t more serious.

Running to his room on a sudden thought, he rummaged through his closet to find a duffel bag, throwing extra clothes and supplies in as Sara continued to work. As much as he hated thinking of it, the case was becoming so personal that it would probably be smart to prepare for any emergencies. When he heard Sara call for him that she was finished, he zipped it up and threw it back in his closet, taking a mental note to add other things once he returned after work.

Closing his bedroom door after him, he greeted Sara by the front door with a reassuring smile.

 

* * *

 

Dropping off Sara shouldn’t have taken too long, but he was still out for quite a while. So it was obviously quite worrying to see that Ryan was still tirelessly working to get the hacker out of their system.

Not wanting to disturb Ryan any more than he had before, he creeped up behind him and took a peek at his monitor screen. He was obviously stressed out, but he had somehow noticed Shane (perhaps he saw him in the reflection of the screen).

“They’ve progressed a bit but I’m still doing everything in my power to combat them. They’re always changing their technique faster than I can keep up. At least I’ve gotten rid of pretty much all the worms,” Ryan spoke up, presumably directed to Shane. “I’ll just tell you now so you don’t disturb me again.”

“I won’t say anything stupid.” Ryan kept silent, which in all honesty was completely fair. So Shane tried to think of something that would actually be helpful. “Didn’t you say that their style or something was familiar?”

“Yeah, but I can’t put my finger on from where.”

Though Shane still kept his distance, he took a step closer to Ryan. “Maybe on a case you’ve done before? Whoever this is is really good, so don't you remember them?”

“No, I can’t! I’m blanking, and I can’t afford to blank right now!” His shoulders had gradually tensed as he spoke, and Shane immediately shut up so that Ryan wouldn’t burst again. It was almost like dealing with a bomb at this point. He waited until he relaxed to how he was before to step right up behind his chair.

“Can you maybe predict what they’re going to do?” he asked carefully, making his voice as soothing as possible. Shane had to make himself as least intimidating as possible, and perhaps Ryan’s head would clear for the better. His hands crept up to Ryan’s shoulders, starting to massage them gently and relax them. Ryan stiffened at first, but then let Shane’s thumbs rub into the muscles in his back. It was softer than he had expected.

“That’s all I’ve been doing. I’m always just a step behind.”

“Then why don’t you predict what  _ you  _ would do if you were the hacker?”

Ryan had stopped almost completely save for the occasional click. Shane couldn’t quite tell if he was deep in thought or if his mind was racing. His hands began to slow on Ryan’s shoulders. 

“Oh shit,” Ryan murmured, hands suddenly flying across his keyboard. “I think I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to write everything down.”

“I’ll leave it to you then.” He brought his hands off of Ryan’s shoulders, stepping back to let him work in peace. At least his mood had changed considerably, and he seemed more confident in his motives. It was refreshing, because Ryan was definitely the only one in the entire office that was up to par with whoever this was.

Shane was about to return to his desk, but was stopped by Steven before he could sit down. Steven was holding a bunch of papers in his hands, but looked like he had something to say.

“Can I just steal you for a few minutes?” he requested. “We have updates on the murder from this morning. Background stuff.”

Shane glanced over to Ryan for a moment before nodding. “Yeah sure. We can just use the big table over there.”

As Shane got settled, Steven simply set the stack of papers he had on the table, opting to open up his phone for notes instead. “It’s not quite substantial, but it’s definitely important for the case.”

“Alright. Shoot.”

“So you know the newer officers that have been brought on the job, right? Your partner Keith and Kelsey went on patrol, but we had Maycie and Evan along with Adam and Daysha go through various records to find out the origins of the bullet as soon as we got the sample.”

“What about the ammunition itself?”

“Turns out it was a .357 Magnum.” Steven wiggled a sheet of paper from the stack and handed it to Shane. “It really narrowed down the search so that we could take a look at the registered guns in the state, but it’s still a hell of a long list.”

“Well, it’s relatively common, isn’t it?”

Steven shrugged. “They were probably just using what they found. I’ll explain to you what I mean in a second.”

“Okay.”

“So you were right when you concluded that it was a contact shot, and we took images of the tattoo from the muzzle and the bullet back to the lab.”

“That’s probably one of the things they were working on while I was there.”

“Possibly, but they got a lot of the critical information pretty quickly. We got tests for the ballistic markings, and were even able to determine the type of revolver used based on the tattoo. Adam and Daysha figured it was a Mateba 6 Unica, and went through the records pretty quickly to find someone who owned one in Mercy.”

“That must have all been done faster than usual.”

“And thank god it was. We had all hands on deck, and from what I can tell, there were more than a few hands at the lab working on the case as well. We don’t really have the time to dawdle, we’ve found. Every single day, there’s something new, and if we fall behind we won’t be able to keep up.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Anyhow, Evan and Daysha ended up going to the house of the owner. Turns out the owner had died about a year ago. What they did find, however, were used cartridges for the Mateba.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and we just got word back from the lab that they match the one that was found at the scene.”

“Of course it did. But did they ever find the revolver?”

“Nope. But what they did find was that most of the possessions were given to the owner’s grandson.  _ And you’ll never guess who that would be. _ ”

“The killer?”

“Close. The robber - the one who got murdered.”

“Wait… I thought that was  _ his  _ gun… why would he be killed by it?”

Steven shrugged. “I dunno. It was probably stolen, or he gave it to them.”

“So did you find any information about the grandson?”

“Adam and Maycie looked into it first. Turns out he worked a low-wage job at a supermarket near here, but other than that they couldn’t find any footage or evidence of him even having any knowledge that Revelations exists. His personal belongings have been further searched through, and nothing much has turned up.”

“And? What about the stolen goods from last night?”

“Nowhere near his apartment. They’re completely off the radar, as far as I know.”

“Wasn’t Bennett concerned about using them to make a bomb of some sort? Acetone peroxide, or Mother of Satan, I dunno…”

“Probably.”

Shane sighed deeply, running both of his hands through his hair. “So we’ve basically hit a dead end, then?”

“Well, we do know what to look for,” Steven pointed out. “It’s not like this information is completely useless.”

“But it’s no lead.”

“But it’s no lead,” Steven agreed, nodding solemnly. “We can’t even confirm that it  _ is  _ Revelations-”

“But who the hell else would kill the grandson?”

“We can’t just assume, but you’re probably right.”

Both were quite suddenly interrupted with a loud shout near the front of the office, the quick scraping of a chair across the floor, and a triumphant  _ ‘I did it! _ ’. The entire office whipped around to see Ryan standing up in his spot, leaning over to continue to furiously type. Shane was out of his seat in a flash and was back by Ryan’s side in mere seconds.

“Did you actually do it?” he asked, genuinely amazed.

“Yeah!” Ryan exclaimed gleefully, pointing at some screen on the monitor that Shane didn’t understand. “See? There’s no more activity. They’re completely gone from the system.”

“You really did it,” Shane gaped. He held his stance as other officers along with Bennett crowded the area.

“Are they actually gone?” Bennett prodded, trying to get a better view of the screen.

“They definitely are,” Daysha confirmed. “It’s a miracle he was able to do that.”

“Oh wow, that really brings a lot off my chest,” Ryan sighed, plopping right back down into his office chair. “I’ll just be a few minutes longer, because I want to strengthen the security of the database.

“How much did they actually get?” Bennett asked. Most of the other officers were dissipating now. 

“They only breached the second level of security before I got to them. Nothing too serious, thankfully, but it took a while to load everything. I won’t be too long.”

As the lingering coworkers finally started to go away, Shane crouched down beside Ryan again and watched as he worked, The excitement was dying down, and the low sun made the artificial lights in the building stand out. It was the most peace he had felt in ages.

“So you really did it,” Shane murmured again. Though he had no idea what Ryan was doing before, he could see that he was now working on the shared database.

“Yeah,” Ryan mumbled. “I just… thought of what I’d do and… I dunno, it just worked. I thought it was a little out there even while I was doing it, but I hit them exactly where there were going and got them out of the system.”

“I’m so proud.”

“You better be.”

They lapsed into silence momentarily, their little atmosphere filled only with the clatter of the keyboard and the clicking of the mouse. People were beginning to check out for the day. Ryan still typed away at the computer.

“Hey,” Ryan spoke up softly. He didn’t look at Shane, but they were words that could have only be directed at him. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be. You were in a high-stress situation.”

“I really am sorry though.” His voice was sincere, almost pleading for Shane’s forgiveness. There was quite a heavy underlying tone of guilt and regret to it.

“Okay.”

“I don’t really know why I reacted like that.”

“Mm.”

“You recovered quite quickly though. I’m glad.”

Shane smiled reassuringly. “It was harder than you think. It’s easy to stay mad at you.” Ryan scoffed, shooting him a playful side glare. They fell silent again, but this time only for a few moments before Shane cleared his throat. “Hey, Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna walk home with me?”

Ryan blinked, pausing what he was doing. Maybe it was on purpose, considering the little progress bar that popped up, but he swivelled around slowly to meet his gaze. “Walk you home?”

“Yeah, sure, _ phrase it that way _ .”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“Okay.”

Once again, their tiny atmosphere isolated them, each searching the other for answers only they had the question to. Shane could see a spark of amusement in Ryan’s eyes and had the immediate urge to quell it, but there was also a strange curiosity that he had no interest in delving into.

Ryan let his attention slip back to the computer monitor just as the progress bar finished up. He went right back to clicking, setting some last few things into place. “Well, I’m almost done, so you may as well grab your stuff and check out.”

So Shane did exactly as he was told. He hadn’t brought a lot that morning, but he retrieved what he had and checked out before waiting by the desk Ryan was working at. Luckily, he timed it rather well as Ryan was already shutting down the entire system. 

“Let’s blast,” he said, standing up and stretching. He began to walk away, Shane trailing behind him and out the door.

“You don’t have to grab anything?” he finally caught up to Ryan, and they crossed the street on the way to Shane’s home. “No checking out or anything?”

Ryan hummed. “Not really. I’m only working here as a guest.”

“I guess. So I didn’t really ask, but are you staying near the station?”

“Hmm. Well, it’s on the way to your place.”

“I guess that’s something.” Shane zipped up his sweater, noticing that it was already starting to become chillier. Hopefully winter wouldn’t come too soon. Ryan was smart for wearing his usual trenchcoat. “Hey, so were you possibly mad about me not telling you what I was talking to Steven about?”

He shrugged. “I understand that it’s personal and not something you just share with everyone.”

“It  _ is  _ about the case, you know.”

“I figured.” Though Ryan seemed quite curious, he refrained from prying.

“Yeah. It’s just… really… I’m not quite ready to share it with everyone in the office yet.” Shane could see Ryan’s shoulders deflate a bit, but didn’t try and question what that meant. “I’ll probably tell you as soon as I’m more stable about it, but for now I just need to figure everything out.”

“Did it happen last night?”

“Yeah.”

“And at your house, right?”

“... How’d you know?”

“That’s why you asked me to walk you home, no?” Ryan had squared his shoulders to Shane slightly, scanning his face and reactions.

“Maybe, I dunno.”

“It’s alright - I’m glad to do it.”

“Thanks man.”

“It’s no problem.”

“... So did you ever figure out why that hacker felt familiar?”

“No. Knowing me, it’ll probably come back in a year while I’m doing something completely unrelated.”

“Haha, yeah, I totally get that.”

“But to be honest, now that I think of it, it felt so familiar it almost felt like a  _ memory _ . Isn’t that wild?”

“It is. But everything today kind of felt like a daze. Everything has for the past week or so, to be completely honest.”

“So it wasn’t just me?”

“Nope. You’re not the only one, dude.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been feeling exhausted, like I’ve been over exerting myself. Like… like I’m losing too much energy.”

“You barely eat. Maybe that’s why? Makes me wonder where all of that body fat comes from.”

“Shut up,” Ryan whined, swatting away Shane’s prodding fingers. “I’m just not that hungry lately. I have other more important things on my mind.”

“Like what? What’s more important than eating?”

“Our lives, for one.”

“Debatable.”

“Hey, this case is bad enough. It  _ potentially  _ could.”

“Nah.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.”

“Like hell I will.”

“Whatever. I’m not going to fight you on that.”

It felt almost too soon, but they were now at Shane’s front porch, chatting in the minimal darkness the evening provided them. Shane had left the porch light on, and it illuminated their little world they had created. Now that he was just a door away from being home, Ryan was drifting back down the steps of the porch, fading as if he was disappearing into the darkness.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in the office,” he told Shane, his hand clinging to the porch banister. He was so much more relaxed than he had been all afternoon.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With Shane’s words, Ryan turned around and began to leave, slipping away from the temporary peace Shane had created for himself. Now that that shield was going away, he could feel impending paranoia return. Images and memories of last night came flooding back, and anxiety of wondering where the intruder could be drowned him. He knew it should be safe enough, but the words written on his mirror returned, burned onto his retinas. 

“Wait!” he called out before he realized what he was doing, his arm outstretched. Ryan looked back questioningly, and Shane dropped his arm. “Can…?... You can stay longer.”

Though he had only said so much, his words were laced with meaning and a request, begging his colleague to stay if only a minute longer. It was truly a miracle how it even still seemed to translate perfectly to him, each plead perfectly understood.

Smiling softly, Ryan turned around and walked back up the porch.

They talked well past a few minutes, if only to forget for just a moment of everything else that was happening around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ive been waiting for so long to write some scenes in chapter 10 yall dont even know lmfao


	10. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Why me?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall!! i wanted to get this out earlier, but ive been super busy with my internship and because this has a super important scene in it, it took me a while to actually write it. a quick thanks to nina ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) ) for betaing for me!! i know she's super busy too and i love her to pieces for still taking the time to look over the chapters <3
> 
>  
> 
> **_CHAPTER WARNINGS :_ **
> 
> → Now that I'm starting to go really psychological, I'm beginning to **introduce mature concepts that are NOT meant to be romanticized** and serve to be something to tap into your own values and such. This is only the start of some stuff like this so be forewarned and I don't really wanna repeat the whole _please don't romanticize this stuff_ thingy again (DONT WORRY i tried my best to make it so that I don't need to tag it (with the ao3 warnings specifically), but if anyone has concerns please message me on tumblr/comment)
> 
> → As I mentioned before, **the chapter is pretty psychological.** As I'm beginning to work on each character's progression throughout the story, I'm at least trying to make it so you question one or two things. Have fun.

_“Shane?”_

_Shane’s vision quite literally drifted from the plastic slide to some old monkey bars. Stevie was hanging upside-down from them, thin legs hooked around the bar. Shane barely had a grasp on passing time, and he couldn’t tell just how far away Stevie was from him - or the rest of the playground equipment from each other, for that matter._

_“Where are we?” he asked, still glancing around. He felt the need to do it quickly, as if he would run out of time. The park didn’t even seem to have anything around it, as if the surrounding trees in front of some sort of sky void were a wall to whatever room they were trapped in._

_Even though the park was outside. Huh._

_Stevie laughed. “You don’t know?”_

_But now Shane did remember. Something in his head told him that this was the park just a block down from his childhood home. He only recognized it when he thought about it._

_“Is this a memory? Or a dream?” Shane thought to himself. His legs were his normal, long, adult legs. Just how he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that. Stevie was still how Shane remembered him._

_How well did Shane remember him? Both the image and voice of Stevie had blurred over time. There’s just simply not enough storage in his brain to remember everything that’s happened to him in the past twenty or so years._

_“How would I know?” Stevie replied instead, swinging gently on the bar. “It’s your head.”_

_“Maybe it’s both,” Shane decided with finality. He kicked himself off the ground, now watching his own figure on the creaky park swing as if he were some sort of floating spectator. His figure was already swinging high, on the verge of slipping out of his seat. Shane couldn’t stop it, so he let it stay that reckless way. “That also means that I won’t be able to stay for that long.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because this is a dream. I’ll have to wake up at some point.”_

_Stevie made no comment at that. In fact, it was almost as if he didn’t hear Shane. Instead, Stevie flipped around on the bars a little more, changing his position. Shane warily noticed that they were the only ones on this isolated playground. There wasn’t even proof that anything even existed outside of the park._

_“I wanna play for longer,” Stevie finally said, flipping over the bars so that he was hanging upside-down again. Shane’s attention snapped back to his friend._

_“Something important is happening outside of my dream,” Shane murmured. He wasn’t quite sure if he was speaking to Stevie, or how much Stevie could even contribute to the conversation, for that matter._

_“Like what?”_

_“I don’t know. Like a police case or something.”_

_“A detective case? That’s so cool!”_

_He could feel his face break out into a tiny smile. “Yeah, I guess it is.”_

_“But can you play with me right now?”_

_“What are we going to play?”_

_“How about cops and robbers?”_

_“Sure.”_

_Despite deciding what to play, they still sat where they were. Shane didn’t stop swinging, and Stevie hung down like a rag doll on the bars. Neither made any move to decide anything further, so they stayed like that._

_“What would you do,” Shane spoke up, briefly wondering about his predicament, “If there was a criminal going after you?”_

_Stevie hummed pensively, taking his time to answer. “Are they coming to kill me?”_

_Shane shook his head. “No. They want to save you.”_

_“Save me?” Stevie giggled despite the severity Shane held to his answer. “What does that mean? What from?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Then I’d ask them.”_

_“What?”_

_Stevie shrugged. “They don’t wanna kill me, and what if I’m actually in danger?”_

_“But they’ve killed so many people before!”_

_“Did they tell those people that they were going to save them?”_

_“I- I don’t know… probably not.”_

_“Then I’d still ask them.”_

_Something about the confidence in his answer frustrated Shane, as if the answer had always been that easy to figure out. But what would he do after he got his answer? “But what about my morality?”_

_“Are you going to save your morality or your life?”_

_His words seeped into Shane’s very being, ingraining themselves into his mind. It was food for thought, and something that he would undoubtedly have to revisit. Just how far did his currently unknown personal connections delve into the case? Why were they even there in the first place?_

_Shane suddenly thought of his new partner, almost expecting him to pop up in the playground at the mere idea of him. “What does it mean when you’ve only met someone a week ago, but it feels like you’ve known them your entire life?”_

_“Hmm.” Stevie took some time to answer this question as well. “Maybe they’re your soulmate?”_

_“My soulmate?”_

_“Yeah. Do you guys like each other?”_

_“Sometimes,” Shane admitted, having a vague memory of quarrelling with Ryan. “Why my soulmate, though? We’re not like that.”_

_“You’re not?” Stevie’s question was so genuine that it made Shane question it himself. “Can’t anyone be a soulmate?”_

_“Do soulmates even exist?”_

_“They do if you want them to.”_

_Stevie flipped over, this time clambering down from the bars and brushing down his clothes. “So do ya wanna play cops and robbers now?”_

_“Sure.” Shane waited until he was at the highest peak on the swing before slipping through the chains, jumping off and into the wood chips below. The all too familiar sharp pain of pinching in his ankles and feet ran up his legs as he walked up to his friend._

_“I wanna be the cop since you’re always a cop.”_

_“Okay.”_

_And so Shane took off running. He wanted to go hide in the trees, but it was as if there wasn’t anything past them, stopping him from leaving the little park’s playground. Not only could he not leave, but he also couldn’t run properly. There wasn’t even anything he was seriously running from, but no matter how fast he tried to make his legs go, they wouldn’t go any faster than a leisurely walking pace._

_Maybe there was something he was running from. Shane didn’t realize when, but his dream had made the game a lot more real. He knew that Stevie had a gun and was really going to capture Shane. Unwarranted anxiety ran through him as he tried in vain to get further away._

_“You’re under arrest!” Stevie proclaimed, catching up with his friend way too soon. “Put up your hands!”_

_Shane obliged. He backed up against a tree, his back hitting the bark roughly as he tried to slide around it. Some part of him was still trying to escape, Stevie’s child-like innocence almost mocking him._

_“Shane!” Stevie called out to him. Something was wrong. “Shane!” Stevie was approaching him now, one hand on a gun and the other reaching for handcuffs. “Shane!” It was his voice. His voice was lower, gravelly,_ real _. It popped out, whereas the rest of the dream was beginning to fade. “Shane!” Even though its atmosphere wasn’t the most desireable, Shane still tried his best to cling onto the last fragments of his dream._

 

_“Shane!”_

 

Shane woke up with a start, gasping. He still couldn’t see anything, and he felt trapped where he was in his bed. He was still half asleep, so he couldn’t quite figure out what felt wrong, but there was definitely _something_.

He only realized that his hands were still above his head when he tried to tug them down. With slightly more urgency, he pulled at his arms, only having them stop short. Something scratchy and tough was wrapped around his wrists. Not quite handcuffs, but tightly bound rope, binding his arms up and against his bed posts.

The sudden awareness to his situation forced him to be completely conscious, hyper-aware of everything going around him. Panic and adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he struggled for some sort of release. It took him a few more seconds to comprehend that he did, in fact, have his eyes open, but some sort of dense cloth was wrapped around his face, effectively blindfolding him. Shane erratically rubbed the back of his head against his pillow in an effort to try and loosen it.

“Shane.” That godforsaken voice spoke again, proving that there definitely _was_ someone sitting on his abdomen. The pressure was intimidating, emphasized by the fact that Shane went shirtless to bed, along with loose pyjama pants. From his panic-state, Shane could barely recognize that gravelly yet unnervingly soothing voice that stayed so calm despite his struggling. Shane tried in vain to kick the intruder off so he could escape or find some sort of cover, but this man had an iron grip on his torso and legs.

Shane only started to make noises of protest but was immediately muffled as a gloved hand clamped over his mouth. He still grunted a bit, but it was no use calling out to his empty home. It became so much worse when the hand covering his mouth loosened slightly, the thumb gently caressing Shane’s cheek.

“I’ve come to save you.”

 

* * *

 

_“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Shane’s voice had fallen to a protective whisper. He squeezed Stevie’s slightly smaller hand tighter._

_“I really thought we turned here,” Stevie insisted, charging forward and dragging Shane along with him. Shane knew he was trying to act brave but he could feel his entire arm shaking. When Stevie glanced back, he could see that he was pouting and holding back angry tears. Still, he trudged on._

_“I don’t think we crossed a street,” Shane mumbled. He bit his lip, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. He had to stay calm in these situations. That was his job._

_Stevie shook his head. “I remember seeing that sign there, see?” He pointed over to a stop sign. Shane resisted the urge to sigh despite how panic-stricken he remained._

_“Can you just admit that you’re lost?” he snapped. “This is the fifth stop sign we’ve seen, and you’ve said that with all of them!”_

_“It’s not my fault my hat flew away,” Stevie bit back. Now tears were really threatening to fall from his eyes. “It kept on flying away and I was just trying to catch it before I lost it!”_

_“Then why didn’t you let it go?!”_

_“Because it’s my favourite hat, Shane! That’s why!”_

_“Well at least we wouldn’t be lost in the city! Mom says there’s scary neighborhoods in Chicago!”_

_“I promise I can find the way back! Dammit Shane!,” Stevie exclaimed, stomping his foot. Shane’s eyes widened when he cussed. Then, he added on at lot softer: “I promise.”_

_For the first time in a very long time, Shane felt like losing his cool. “It’s not if you promise or not! It’s if we’ll be able to find help and get back home okay!” In a flash of anger, Shane tried to rip his hand away from their hold. Instead, he was stopped by Stevie’s hand tightening around his, grasping at his fingers and tugging both of their hands back down. When Shane looked up again, he could see that Stevie’s lip was trembling._

_“No!” Stevie’s voice was choked up. He was terrified. “No…” he continued softly. “I don’t wanna lose you too.”_

_Ah. He was right. Whatever happened to them, they were in it together, and they would protect each other. Stevie’s grasp had become slightly suffocating but Shane squeezed back for good measure. Taking a deep breath, he nodded._

_So they continued on. Their pace remained slow and they each followed the other, not quite sure where they were headed. It started to feel darker outside. It started to feel like there were things in the shadows, creeping and crawling and ready to jump out at them. Not only that, but Shane became warier of stranger’s eyes on them. Their stares bored into the backs of their heads, intimidating and dangerous. He knew what his mother meant when she said ‘dangerous’. He knew that shootings were commonplace in Chicago. He knew that kidnappings were commonplace in the area. Suddenly, the real world became so much more… real. Gripping Stevie’s hand, he quickened his pace._

_“I don’t like it here,” Stevie murmured, speaking Shane’s thoughts. “I can feel them looking at us.”_

_“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Shane promised. Though he was trying to put up a tough act, his steps had grown shakier. Stevie nodded, struggling to believe him._

_“Won’t I protect you?” Stevie giggled. His nerves were getting the best of him. “I’m still taller than you.”_

_“Only by a little bit!” Shane huffed. “I’m stronger than you!”_

_“No you aren’t! I’m definitely-”_

_There was a loud noise somewhere behind them accompanied with a shout. It made shivers run up and down both their spines, shocking their fight-or-flight instincts into life. Apparently it was flight that won that battle, because Stevie suddenly took off, practically dragging Shane with him by the hand. Neither of them could really see where they were going, hoping and praying that they would run out of that predicament alive - if not home._

_“Oof!” Stevie had managed to run into someone, and that same momentum carried Shane right behind him. They both stumbled into a heap on the ground, only letting go of each other to desperately untangle themselves and look up._

_“What di’ya think yer doin’, boys?” Both scrambled backwards and off the shoes of a annoyed-looking police officer. Shane was back on his feet before he was spoken to again, but Stevie sat where he was, gaping. “Just here ta cause trouble? Git lost!”_

_“No, sir,” Shane attempted to explain, holding his hands behind his back. “We lost our way and we don’t know how to get home.”_

_“Home, huh?” The officer squinted suspiciously at them, and Shane could see out of the corner of his eye that Stevie was cowering under his gaze. Gulping, he forced himself to stand up straight as he was being scrutinized. “Yer a bit young to be wanderin’ dese streets alone, boys. Not scared, are ya?”_

_“We’re not scared!” Stevie insisted, standing up suddenly. Shane sighed when he realized Stevie’s state wasn’t necessarily proving their point. The officer laughed. A blush creeped up along Stevie’s neck._

_“Let them be.” Another voice piped up, slightly teasing and addressed to the officer, but it had a much kinder intention. Someone that had been speaking with the officer before their collision stepped around the officer, curiously gazing down at the two boys. As much as Shane studied him, he really couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. He looked professional enough with his messy hair mostly slicked back and his tan trenchcoat, but something about his face was almost goofy. Lifting the wide rim of his panama hat away from his eyes, he whistled. “Are you boys really lost?”_

_Stevie nodded quickly. “Yes! Really really!”_

_“Do ya really have tha time ta bring em back home?” the officer asked him. He almost struck Shane as irritated, but mostly directed to him and Stevie. “When ya have such an important case on yer hands?”_

_“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” the man beamed. “The case can wait half an hour. I’ll be back before you know it.” And with that, he had the audacity to wink at the officer as he ushered the boys away._

_“Thanks for helping us, mister,” Shane immediately praised him, jogging up to his side as the man began to walk in the opposite direction they were going. Stevie caught up to Shane’s side, gazing up at the mysterious man with wonder._

_“It’s really not a bother,” he hummed. “I know what it’s like to feel lost. But tell me: why are you two young’ns out by yourselves around here?”_

_“We were by the playground near here, but Stevie ran after his hat. There was a lot more wind earlier.”_

_The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”_

_“It’s my favourite hat, mister!” Stevie insisted, but the man only laughed kindly._

_“Don’t worry too much about it! After all, I can completely understand. The Chargers are also my favourite football team.”_

_“Really?” The awe in Stevie’s voice was enough to make the man laugh again. Stevie bashfully adjusted his cap so that the brim was centered in front of his head. “That’s so cool! Are you like a detective or something?”_

_The man hesitated in his step, evaluating his answer before speaking. “Well… kind of. I am a detective but I work with the police force. So even though I don’t have a blue uniform, it’s still my duty to take care of lost kids like you two.” Both kids had their jaws dropped, absolutely awestruck to be with someone so qualified. “It’s really not that amazing,” the man gushed, somehow flustered, “I just do the best I can.”_

_“It’s a great honour,” Shane replied seriously, Stevie nodding along with him. Glancing to his side, Shane could see that there were almost stars twinkling in his friend’s eyes. Somehow he knew in that moment that they both decided exactly where they wanted to be in their future. It was magical how they had become so sure of this conclusion together, without having to exchange as much as a word with each other._

_“There isn’t much to it,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his trenchcoat pockets. “Helping people is nice because I remember being on both sides of the conflict. It’s nice to know that there are always people out there willing, always people out there that care about you.” His line of sight drifted away to the sky, dazed. “That you will be saved.”_

_Though his speech still struck a chord in him, Shane was more absorbed in Stevie’s face instead. Stevie held the utmost concentration to the man’s every word, drinking in his every movement. There was an intense respect that Stevie had gained for the man in such a short period of time. Their hands brushed against each other as they walked beside each other, but contrary to before, Shane realized, was that Stevie didn’t even seem to notice. He didn’t need Shane’s reassurance anymore. He didn’t need Shane’s protection anymore._

_“Wait,” Shane suddenly piped up. “We never said where we came from. Do you know where you’re going?”_

_“You said playground, correct?” the man hummed. “There’s only one in the area… the one with the stop sign?”_

_“You know the stop sign!” Stevie gasped, jumping up and down at the revelation. “See, Shane? He knows the stop sign!”_

_Shane rolled his eyes. “You guys are weird.”_

_“That park over there, correct?” They had all just turned a corner and the man was pointing to a block filled with trees, a hint of kids playing and swings creaking just behind their shadows. Stevie had already taken off, rushing up to his worried mother that currently had her back to them._

_A sigh of relief left Shane. He was finally able to relax his shoulders, and he was able to return to the safety of his own bed and home without anything bad occurring._

_“Thanks, mister-” Shane had turned around to thank the man, but just as he was expressing his gratitude did he realize the man was nowhere in sight. He did a full 360, trying to sneak a peek around the corner to see if there was still a trace of his tan trenchcoat or a gleam of his panama hat, but he had simply vanished into thin air._

_Blinking, he wobbled back to where Stevie and his mother were. The stress really must have taken a toll on him, and there must have been a moment in time that his memory completely forgot to capture._

 

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

 

_The immense wave of emotion that overcame Shane again and again the longer he stayed in what used to be Stevie’s home was unbearably suffocating. Still, he did his best to bottle it all up inside of himself._

_Somehow, Shane managed to slip away while his mum was comforting Stevie’s grieving mother, weaving between the legs of questioning officers until he found his way to Stevie’s room._

_Closing the door behind him, the room already felt empty and abandoned. There were still clothes strewn about everywhere on the floor, and the bed with the Spiderman duvet was only half made. Homework was scattered across his work desk. Everything was dark, but Shane felt as if he would be violating the area if he turned on the light._

_Shane had no idea why he had snuck into Stevie’s old room in the first place. Something in his gut wanted him to see it just one last time — to pay his respects. Stevie had only been kidnapped, but everyone was acting as if he were dead. Shane clenched his fists so hard that they shook, and he bit his lip hard in an attempt not to cry._

_Perhaps the worst part of it was that the room still smelled like life. The plants on the windowsill had been freshly watered that morning, and the clothes around the hamper still smelled musty and recently worn. Everything was still so fresh, but it was unlikely that Stevie would see it ever again. Shane wouldn’t see his best friend concentrating from where he sat on the floor, building another section of his new Lego set. Shane wouldn’t see his best friend half asleep, desperately trying to stay awake for their second sleepover ever. Shane wouldn’t see his best friend peeking up from behind a makeshift fort he had made from pillows and blankets, knowing they’d both get yelled at by Stevie’s mother for making such a big mess in his room._

_Going over to where his messy bookshelves and dresser were, Shane stared at the dust-covered memorabilia and framed photos. In some of them, he was there, playing or laughing along with Stevie, while in others it was Stevie with his family. A hand reached up to one of the most distinct images of Stevie. Shane’s fingers brushed against the cool glass, separating him from whatever happier times the Stevie captured was trapped in._

_Dispersed around those surfaces, Shane suddenly realized that Stevie was allowed to keep a lot of the ‘treasures’ they would find when they played explorers. Large dried leaves crumbled on and around chapter books with the occasional dirty pencil or pen hanging around. Sometimes Stevie was even lucky enough to find a piece of lego or toy car, which were proudly displayed in their own little corner. Shane sniffled a bit and angrily wiped at his eyes._

_Stevie’s favourite baseball cap - the Chargers one - was hung on one of his bed posts, easily available to grab on the go. Shane touched it, worn fabric rough underneath his fingertips. He could almost see Stevie’s beaming face underneath the brim of the hat, bubbly and eager. Only now did he not regret Stevie chasing after the hat when it blew away from his head and they both got lost in the streets of Chicago._

_Ah, yeah. When they got lost. Shane laid down in the middle of Stevie’s floor._

_That detective officer man really made an impact on their lives. Both his gestures and words influenced their every decision and future goals, but now he was nowhere to be seen. Shane had studied the face of each officer milling around downstairs, and he wasn’t one of them. It made Shane angry when they nodded sympathetically, caring only to get information so they could further track down Stevie’s kidnapper. It was as if they weren’t willing to do everything in their power to save him, as if they didn’t fully care._

_As if Stevie were already dead._

_Shane grasped at his face and his hair. There was no way Stevie was dead! He knew Stevie, and he knew Stevie wouldn’t just… die like that. Stevie was smart and clever and would definitely worm his way out of the evil kidnapper’s clutches! Shane could already see his potential every time they played something like cops and robbers, or even explorers._

_But it was also his duty. Shane was capable. He had always vowed to try and protect his friend, and now that he had slipped through his fingers, there just had to be a way to bring him back. He had to figure out how, and now. Before it was too late._

_There were people speaking softly outside of Stevie’s door now, apparently aware of where Shane was but unsure if he was mentally stable to be asked questions yet. They were all dumb. Shane didn’t have anything to say. Not as much as he wanted to be able to, at least._

_Grabbing a pillow that had been thrown onto Stevie’s floor, he hugged it tightly and buried his face into it, letting himself cry. It was humiliating to be sobbing on the floor of his possibly-dead friend’s room, but he let it all out. It was the smartest thing to do before he had to leave that room and bottle up all of his emotions once again._

_Losing a best friend so suddenly and so unexpectedly was horrific to deal with. So many thoughts scampered around the room, drowning Shane in guilt by chanting that somehow it was his fault, that he didn’t do enough. Had he not been perceptive? Was he simply just ignorant? Though he had thought about it briefly before, watching something as final as death pass by your nose and leaving you in the dust really throws you in for the loop. There was no body yet, so there was a possibility that he was still alive… but would he really want to know? Would he really want to see the proof that Stevie was gone forever, only to fade away beneath stone or melt into ashes? It made Shane sick to even think about it. Reality was sick and cruel, choosing to target Shane now._

_Why? Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it be anyone else? Anyone but Stevie._

_It was there in that moment, with him snivelling and sobbing on the floor, that Shane decided he was going to become a police officer. Because if no one else was going to save Stevie, then by god would Shane try to._

 

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

 

_Only when he was being wholeheartedly honest would Shane admit he lost interest in his career decision for quite a while as he grew up._

_It was perfectly reasonable and realistic, was it not? Time passed — that’s just how life works._

_It did take a long fucking while for Shane to get it together again — to be able to act normal again. It was difficult as hell to go back to grade 1, knowing that there was literally no chance to be in the same class as Stevie. It was tough when he knew he couldn’t find his laughing face out in the field during recess. But with that, he began interacting with his other friends more. Shane wasn’t a complete loner, and Stevie would hate for Shane to get all isolated because of him._

_Thus Shane continued on with the rest of his childhood. Stevie took up less and less space in his mind, which was perfectly normal. He was only one childhood friend, and as Shane grew up, memories of Stevie and their time together began to fade to make way for new ones. Shane began to grow and tend to more and different hobbies, hanging out with good and bad friends. He became less and less dependent on his therapist, who had helped him cope with his loss in the first place. By the time he entered junior high to start a completely new and clean slate, Stevie was completely out of his everyday thoughts._

_Middle school was a wild new world. Hormones and new faces and new experiences clouded Shane’s life. Sometimes he still thought of his early childhood ambitions to work with the police force, but he enjoyed exploring other areas as well. The more he played with his friends after school, the more he became interested in video game developing (that is, until he learned just how much coding-based math was involved in that area… it still interested him a tiny bit, though). When his parents finally let him have a dog, he decided he’d protect it with his life and become a veterinarian. However, even that dream wavered when his year went on that one science field trip. After that, he was absolutely set on becoming an astronaut._

_Shane hadn’t really been exposed to his primary interest again until he visited a friend’s house after he started high school. The friend’s older brother was in the living room, watching some serious show on the television, teasing his Shane’s friend and their group from where he sat. Shane found it endearing._

_So much so, in fact, that he ended up staying on the couch beside the brother instead. He had shrugged it off, saying that he didn’t mind because the friend didn’t have enough controllers for everyone anyhow and they were initially planning on rotating. This way, they’d all be happy._

_The brother didn’t seem to mind Shane’s presence much at all. He was glad to explain what was happening in the show thus far and offer Shane snacks, but Shane was all too glad to simply watch his eager face and gestures as the brother spoke. He couldn’t help but catch the brother giving him a side glance every once in a while, too. The afternoon went by just too damn fast, tugging him away from the comfort of that small couch._

_Shane ended up following more of that show that brother had been watching that one afternoon. He kept in contact with him to talk about the show and school and various other subjects of matter, but the show itself began to bring up a part of his past again. It was a crime show. Though it could have been wildly unrealistic, Shane found himself once again immersed in the detectives, not only in their action scenes but when they really made him have to think. It reminded him of his very own unsolved case._

_That’s why he ended up finding himself on the floor of his friend’s brother’s room, pictures and printed files scattered out in front of them. The brother would smile as he watched Shane explain his theories on where Stevie was now, occasionally adding in his own observations and points. They’d discuss what they could conclude based on the evidence they had already collected, wondering how they could advance from there. It was all so strange how such a sad past could contribute so much to such warm summer evenings._

_All those fuzzy dates had to come to an end when the brother graduated and left for an out-of-state university. Shane wanted to be sad again, but he couldn’t help but feel proud that the brother was going away and following his dreams. They attempted to keep in touch by texting, but after a year or two they inevitably drifted apart — because sometimes life is just like that._

_As applications for college drew near, Shane was handed an ad for an internship with the Chicago police. Though he was not originally the most interested, one of his teachers had recommended him to the program, and so there he was, blinking at the little laminated card in his hand._

_Shane fiddled with the card all afternoon, the corners folding slightly and the edges bending. Memories washed up through Shane like the tide coming in and out again. Some memories were with Stevie — old ones that resurfaced like forgotten dreams — while others were with that brother. The brother was admittedly easier to picture, but that didn’t stop a laughing Stevie from gripping his hand tightly as they ran around their childhood park to play cops and robbers. That didn’t stop the strange detective man with the tan trenchcoat and the panama hat from giving them their initial inspiration once again._

_He ran back home as soon as school ended. Bursting through the door, Shane handed the card to his mother eagerly, begging her to let him apply for the internship._

 

* * *

 

“I’ve come to save you.”

 _Shit, that voice was too familiar._ It was strange meeting (or rather hearing) the curious John Novel in the flesh, almost like seeing some big radio figure. His voice was too sincere for a kidnapper’s, not to mention for the monotone robot that he had been speaking to over the phone just about a week ago. Shane had stopped struggling in vain, but he still groaned against the hand on his mouth. The hand loosened further yet.

What was he even supposed to do in a situation like this? It made Shane feel overwhelmingly helpless, especially within the confines of his own home. His own little haven had been breached (to which he probably should have taken the hint beforehand with the power outage and the shower incident - the more he thought about it, the more he realized the power outage was probably no accident). Struggling would be futile, _but was he to just accept his position? Was he going to be murdered?_

Shane wanted to ask his kidnapper so many questions. They whirred around his head, becoming incoherent and blurry as if they were spun in a blender. _Why him? What did he do to deserve unwillingly being the centre of the entire case? What did Revelations want from him? What did they want to do with him? Why were they doing any of this in the first place? How did he fit into the picture?_ Both sat deathly still, save for their breaths and heartbeats. It was like John was waiting for a response.

Instead, Shane asked something else.

“Why?”

His voice was slightly muffled, but the hand was loose enough that he could feel his lips drag and catch against the smooth fibers of the glove John had on. The kidnapper shifted a bit on top of him, and Shane could almost feel his warmth nearing his face. Hell, he could hear his breath closer to his ear now. There was still some distance, but it felt… more _intimate_. Shane gulped.

“Your world is an evil place, Shane.”

The kidnapper’s voice was low — almost gravelly, even — and soft. _Kind_. It was meant to be soothing, like Shane was some sort of panicked child caught up in a warzone. At the mention of his name, a strange chill ran down his spine, shifting him in his spot again. The kidnapper repositioned himself slightly, and Shane could feel the line of his pyjama pants shift with the movement, exposing even more bare stomach. Shane felt sick. His voice cracked ever so slightly as he tried asking again.

“Why me?”

The man shook slightly on top of him. _Was he laughing? Did Shane say something that he found funny? Or perhaps obvious?_

“It always had to be you.”

Something curled in Shane’s stomach again. Maybe it was a reaction to the kidnapper shifting on top of him again. Maybe it was the implication in his words that he had ‘ _always_ ’ knew Shane was to be ‘ _saved_ ’.

Shane’s breath stuttered. He wasn’t about to cry, no, _why would he?_ It would probably be even worse to show his kidnapper any form of weakness. Yet his eyes were still wet with frustration, wrought with confusion. _What had he done that could have possibly led him to his current position?_ He was damn fucking sure he had tried to live as normal a life as he possibly could up until then. The blindfold was tight around his face, but he still tried to blink away that frustration in his eyes. If any tears had let slip, he prayed that the fabric of the blindfold would soak them up.

Biting his bottom lip, Shane tried regulating his breath as best as he could. He technically _was_ the trained professional, and one of the first things he would be told to do is stay calm. It just… was a bit more difficult than it seems when you’re on the receiving end. John could probably feel Shane moving his mouth underneath his glove, but he couldn’t help but bite down even harder. He could even feel his dry lips begin to split. _Anything_ to clear his head.

He had been dreaming before. Shane had been talking with Stevie. A Stevie that was merely a figment of his imagination and desperation, of course, but Stevie nonetheless. Gulping, Shane tried to remember _anything_ he said as a source of consolation. He waded through the panic he felt near the end of the dream, hoping to find something that could help him get through... whatever _this_ was going to be.

_Then I’d ask them._

Ask him what? Ask himself? _His morality or his life?_ Which would he choose? Which made sense? Which one _could_ he choose? It was like a trick question at this point… there only seemed to be one answer left.

After all, the raw, human instinct and need for survival resides within us all, unveiled and prevailing only when one is faced with the rearing head of true danger.

And Shane could already feel his reason slipping away from his grasp.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asked weakly, voice barely audible behind his kidnapper’s gloved hand. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to save you,” the man answered, soft and gentle as a mother. Shane hated himself from beginning to be swept away by his tone. He was so fucking _weak_ . “ _He_ saved us all, and now that _He_ is gone, Abeoji will let me bring you back, because I can see the good in your heart — that you have done nothing wrong.” His hand slipped down Shane’s face again, the fresh air cool against his cracked lips. The hand strayed to his cheek, adoringly stroking it. _Soothingly_. It drained any remaining feeling away from Shane’s body, left laying there limply and numb like an empty shell.

As he caressed Shane’s cheek, he continued. Shane could feel his face grow impossibly closer so that his words were like a buzz against his ear. Shane rolled his head slightly to the side, not quite sure if he was trying to get away from his kidnapper or patiently awaiting for what he had to say. “I can take you away from here, Shane. We can both live together happily in a perfect world. My family is supportive and kind, and together we will bring peace to this world. We will always be together.”

Though Shane had no idea what the connection was, the personal ties to his case were his biggest weakness. They tugged him helplessly along, shackled to their reigns. _Life is a big, sick game — and I’m being tested_ , he thought bitterly. Somewhere along the line, he had played all his cards wrong.

“Why are you doing this?” There was just about nothing there anymore: his voice sat at the back of his throat, completely and utterly dead. He wasn’t quite sure who he was asking anymore. “Why try at all?”

There was a pause. Perhaps he was thinking his statement over. When he did speak again, his tone was thoughtful.

“Humans are sinners. They are drawn and tempted towards evil, following its bait easily like moths to a lamp. Revelations is coming upon us soon, Shane. Only my family is ready. We have been conditioned to purify this Earth before _the Coming_ . There will be much suffering in time, but it is our duty to clean up beforehand. We are messengers of _the Coming_.”

“We all make mistakes,” Shane stated simply. _How was he any different to anyone else that had been murdered?_ How was _Revelations_ any different to anyone else? “Sure, it’s corrupt here, but we have a system in place. We try our best.”

 _God…_ because of his blindfold disabling his vision, Shane was hyper-aware of everything around him via his other senses. He could feel every muscle twitch and pulse from the kidnapper sitting on top of him, he could feel the fibers of the rope scratch his wrists, he could feel every tiny gust of wind that sneaked in through his open window. Though he couldn’t see the expression his kidnapper was wearing, he could feel his stare burning into his very soul.

“Criminals all deserve their punishment, whether or not the system chooses to fairly give it to them. That’s why justice must be put into place.”

 _Then where is my justice?_ Shane thought desperately. Where was justice when Eliza Chang was murdered? Where was justice when the prison burned to the ground? Where was justice when Stevie was taken? Perhaps justice _was_ present, but only on the wrong side. _Yet who was he to pick and choose which side was the right side?_

As much as his logical side was screaming for him to stop, Shane couldn’t help but begin to see where Revelations was coming from. He couldn’t help but begin to sympathize with his kidnapper. Warning bells pealed shrilly throughout his head, begging him to remember everything that was wrong with this scenario. _Shane was just a shit officer. What was training to him when he couldn’t use it when it actually mattered?_ _How had he ever thought that he could save Stevie when he was slipping away from his own values and morals?_ Yet he truly seemed to have no choice. Shane wasn’t in a position to freely decide what to do. Not at the moment, at least.

His entire body was buzzing with excitement. Adrenaline. He wasn’t quite sure where the sudden rush came from, but Shane was way past fighting. What would he even do? His kidnapper even implied he had some sort of backup somewhere… that _‘family’_ of his. Maybe he was jealous: _why did such a ruthless killer deserve such a supportive family?_ Though his mother was safe miles away, Shane couldn’t help but watch the small life he had barely managed to build up in Mercy be carefully pried apart as the case went on. He was suddenly being told everything about the way he was living his life was wrong, and then convinced to go hand in hand with his kidnapper and find a ‘better’ life with this organization- _family_ he was a part of.

On top of him, his captor suddenly moved. He was probably only shifting his position for comfort or to grab something, but he dug down into Shane as he did so, pressing him into his mattress. Shane’s breath caught in his throat, dizzy with the strange spike of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His head dug back into his pillow and he squeezed his fingers, stretching them out again and trying to get the blood flowing back into his hands. _The rope was suffocating_ . _What Shane would give to simply wake up and have all of this be some grand nightmare._

“Are you ready to be saved?” the man murmured. His free hand delicately brushed down the side of Shane’s bare chest, the tips of his gloved fluttering above his skin. Shane could feel every inch of contact in _HD_. Squeezing his hands again, he slowly released them in an effort to try and gather his thoughts from the jumbled mess they had become.

“We can’t,” Shane suddenly gasped, chest heaving a large sigh as he hurried to correct himself. “I- I can’t.”

His kidnapper was shocked at his answer. Shane could tell as he braced himself when his captor rocked back on top of him. “ _Why-_... I know it’s sudden, but why not?”

 _What was Shane attempting?_ To be fair, he had somehow gotten an utterly ridiculous request across to this person during their phone call, so perhaps he could still find a way out if he used his wit. That being said, there was only so much wit one could have in a position as such.

“We… we can’t meet like this. Not like this.” _A deal. That’s what he needed._ “I- I can’t consider it seriously in this sort of position.”

“What do you mean this sort of position?”

“I want to meet normally,” Shane admitted truthfully. Perhaps not for the same reasons as this John Novel did, but he certainly would like to see the answer to a lot of his issues. “I want to be able to see you and talk to you as anyone would normally. Not like this.”

It was silent for a very long time. Not until now did Shane realize just how scary silence could be. Each second dragged on for hours, and though his life did not seem to be in the question anymore, he wondered if he was going to be able to even wake up tomorrow alive. He didn’t even feel alive _now_.

“All I want is for you to be happy, Shane.” Shane didn’t realize when, but the hand on his cheek was gone. There was movement above him, and he suddenly could feel the rope on his right wrist loosening. He wanted to struggle free right away, but quickly thought better of it and waited so his kidnapper could hold more trust in him. “I will try and do as you wish. My family may not be as lenient, but I will always be faithful to you.”

Shane’s room was freezing. Especially with no shirt, he was sure he was close to shivering. Now that all the weight had left his abdomen, Shane was able to sit up, struggling with his wrist to continue to free it from its restraints. He could already hear his kidnapper making his way across his room back to the window, already escaping. Shane’s breath quickened with anxiety, needing to work as fast as possible. His hand finally became loose just as his kidnapper was bidding him goodbye.

“Goodbye, Shane. I’ll see you again.”

Shane just barely managed to rip the tight blindfold off his face with his free hand as the John Novel was escaping through his window. He only saw his figure for a second or two, but it was enough for an okay profile: A black hoodie with a large white cross embedded ( _burned?_ ) across its front; a black ski mask covering his lower face; dark sweatpants for easy movement; black gloves on his hands despite his hoodie sleeves being pushed up his forearms. The stature even matched with the one Shane had briefly seen through the security camera recording.

Throwing everything to the side, he struggled with his other arm, trying his darndest to loosen the other rope’s knot. Shane tried his best to concentrate on his breathing to prevent himself from hyperventilating. He came damn close a few times, but his body was moving on autopilot anyhow. Especially after seeing the dark rope burns left coiled around his wrists. They stung and his hands prickled as circulation returned through them, but he ignored them in his present shock.

Finally breaking loose, Shane rushed around his room, searching for his work bag, phone and charger, any shirt, and the duffel bag he had put together in the closet. Without thinking about it twice, Shane barely shoved his shoes on as he ran out of his house, locking the door behind him and tossing his keys to the bottom duffel bag.

He didn’t glance back even once as he ran out into the night.  
  
  
  


Shane hated relying on people, he really did. Yet somehow, nothing at all ran through his head as he rang the doorbell to the house he was at. The porch light shone on him as if he was in the spotlight for the entire night to see. Shane wanted nothing more than to get out of it as soon as possible.

He knew how late he was, but he was eternally grateful (and surprised) when he heard lazy footsteps approach the front door. Shane’s senses were still heightened from before, so he could just barely make out what was being said on the other side of the door.

_“-two fucking thirty in the goddamn morning… you know if you’re here to murder me that I’m the police-”_

The voice abruptly stopped as it approached the door. They were no doubt looking through the peephole, yet Shane made no effort in changing his expression. He already knew he looked horrific.

With the deadbolt being unlocked very quickly, the door opened wide enough that Steven was fully visible in the doorway. He obviously had some bedhead and his pyjamas were slightly rumpled, but his eyes were wide with concern. Fright, almost.

“Shane?” It was like Steven’s voice had died in his throat. Shane could care less now how he looked to his friend. All he wanted to do was get inside, find himself a new haven. He saw it impressive that he could even find his voice.

“I need to stay at yours for a while.”  


* * *

 

_Anyone who saw the hotel room would be astonished that it was even in use. It was as if not even the staff would enter the suite._

_Funnily enough, the room would be cleaned time to time — by Steven no less. Yet when he couldn’t visit, clothes remained strewn across the floor and the bed lay untidy and unmade. Dirty dishes covered almost every surface. The meals that Steven had had were empty, but everything else was untouched. Fruitflies hovered over uneaten food. Other than clothes and dishes, various papers and newspapers were scattered across the room, disorganized and forgotten. It would be a maze to try and navigate one’s way across the room._

_Even so, in the very centre of the room where no furniture was placed, sat Andrew in a short dining chair. He stared blankly at nothing, unblinking. His breaths were short and robotic. In his lap, bandages were wrapped around his hands like gloves, limp and static. He didn’t remember the last time he moved, and he didn’t know when he’d move again. He didn’t think of anything, in fact._

_Quietly and deathly still, Andrew sat and waited._

_Waited for something to happen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to start getting a whole lot more interesting from here, huh.


	11. Seek a Remedy, Unravel a Knot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO LATE THAT I THINK EVEN MERCY CHAPTER 3 HAS HIT 1 YEAR OLD!!!! YAY!!! i cant believe im still going "strong".....
> 
> sorry it's been so long (a month overdue oof)!! im so busy it should be illegal, ib is kicking my ass, and all of the universities im currently applying to are internationally competitive ;-; next chapter is important so i wanna stay on schedule but im already so very busy
> 
> also thanks again to nina ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) ) !!! she's working very hard on her own projects and im eternally grateful for her help :D

Shane woke up gasping again. He was in an unfamiliar place this time, yet the all-too familiar sensation of hot, sweaty pyjamas and raw fear racing throughout his nervous system was ever-present. His brain was shouting, begging for some sort of proof of reality, that he was back in his normal life and that everything had been a dream.

Of course, with that struggle, a flood of memories from last night overtook him, and Shane shook with panic. How was he supposed to grasp the fact that he could not return back to his own home, his own  _ haven _ , because that safe place in his life had been violated and deemed dangerous? Not to mention how the case had taken a huge leap in a much more personal direction could have ever imagined. Shane rolled over, arching his back and digging his face into a cushion to stop himself from breathing too fast. 

_ Shit _ , he really needed to just  _ stop _ . He needed to stop  _ thinking _ . After all, he could hear some commotion in what he guessed was the kitchen — someone had heard him wake up and was approaching him. Anxiety told Shane that it was the same intruder from before, but logically, he barely remembered that he had crashed at Steven’s place before... and he could  _ not  _ let Steven see him lose it like this under any circumstance.

Keeping his composure in mind, Shane tried his best to regulate his breathing, seeking something else to fixate on. Luckily, somehow, through his delusions, he managed to catch a waft of something cooking from the kitchen. What was it… pancakes? Scrambled eggs? Breathing in and out to try and figure out what the scent was, he managed to calm himself down just enough as Steven burst through to the living room.

“Shane?  _ Oh, fuck _ ,” Steven worried. There was immediately a hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. Shane tended to be stubborn in not accepting any help and worried that it would just raise his panic again, but he concentrated on how Steven’s palm dug into the knots in his muscles. “It’s alright,” he was assuring, possibly to himself as well, “It’s going to be okay.”

Collapsing out of exhaustion, Shane let himself mould to the couch. A thin blanket that had been draped over him at some point let him keep some of his warmth. Steven sat on the edge of the couch by his legs, still repetitively rubbing Shane’s back. Shane could feel that his face had grown damp as he had panicked, so he tried discreetly drying off his face on the fabric of the couch. 

Shane rolled over again, keeping his arms over his eyes. He could feel a smile slip out, letting way to almost maniacal chuckles. Steven kept his hands to himself after Shane moved, but the dip in the cushions indicated that he was still there. 

“You’re going to burn the breakfast,” Shane informed him. It was simple, as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. He let his arms fall behind him over the armrest.  _ Yeah _ , Shane knew how red and puffy his eyes probably were, but he could at least pretend. Steven was staring at him, trying to figure him out like a puzzle.

He shrugged. “I finished the breakfast just before you woke up. We can eat as soon as you’re ready.” Getting up, he lingered by the kitchen entrance, hesitating in both movement and speech. “Shane…”

“Yeah?”

“... Nevermind. I- Don’t worry about the time. I already texted Bennett.” And with that, he left the room, rummaging around his kitchen for plates and silverware. Shane glanced at the nearest clock.  _ 10:31. Fuck. _

“Use anything in the bathroom that you need!” Steven shouted from where he was. Shane nodded despite knowing that his friend couldn’t see him, heaving himself off the couch to find his duffel bag.

Getting to the bathroom, Shane rummaged through his bag, seeking out the toiletries that he had haphazardly packed. He was desperate for a shower, but he paused in his movements momentarily, staring at his forearms.

All around his wrists, angry red and snake-like burns were embedded onto his skin, brutally reminding him of what had happened last night. Now that he was aware of it did the pain start to come back. The rope was rough and probably too tight, resulting in the bruises on some places and even blisters on others. Turning over his hands, Shane stared at the already almost healed burns on his palms, pink with new skin. Sighing, Shane turned on the shower, undressing and stepping in. He was too tired to think too hard about anything, so he let the warmth wash down his back, careful to have his wrists avoid any contact with the water.

Finding some gauze and bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and some polysporin, Shane set to work on tending to his wrists. _ It would be all the better to not see them and have the ghost of those ropes remind him of everything _ ... was what he told himself as each touch stung like nothing else. He knew he had probably been taking forever in the bathroom, but Steven didn’t bother him once. Plus, a few quick splashes of cold water over his face should be enough to recover at least some of his appearance. That, and the long-sleeved striped shirt he had thrown into his bag before. 

“You cooked an entire feast,” Shane joked as he walked into the kitchen, as fresh as he was possibly going to get. He could feel Steven’s eyes flit and linger at the bandages barely peeking out from his sleeves. Smiling, Steven gestured to a spot at the breakfast bar with a served plate.

“I couldn’t relax, so I ended whipping up more than enough up,” Steven beamed. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Orange juice?”

“Just coffee is fine.” He sat down at his spot, grabbing a banana from a fruit bowl before digging in.

“I have some creamer, if you want.”

“Yeah. Creamer sounds okay to me.”

Steven was restless. Shane could tell not only by his movements now, but by observing his environment around him. Right now he seemed to already be on a coffee high, despite the fact that the coffee machine was still brewing. He was bouncing around, not quite in excitement, but more as if he had something in his mind that needed to be let out. 

_ That’s easy enough to ignore,  _ Shane thought as he cut into some pancake, making sure it had been drowned in the perfect amount of maple syrup.  _ What a fancy boy, Steven Lim... having maple syrup lying around. _

His actions weren’t the only thing out of order, though. Shane watched his friend search the cupboards for good enough mugs. Something about the entire home was different. It was both emptier and a mess. Organized chaos. Perhaps it was the fact that Andrew could be frequenting his home more often now, but that idea didn’t sit perfectly well in Shane’s stomach. Of course, that could easily be the case, but his intuition was implying that that wasn’t the entire story.

A mug was set in front of him, and Steven sat down almost across from him. Though Shane knew he sat there to gauge Shane’s reactions to whatever questions he had, Shane also knew that the opportunity could be a two-way door. Taking a sip of his coffee, he waited for Steven to start asking. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Steven finally said, staring down at his plate. He was busy cutting up his pancakes, only glancing up when Shane still hadn’t answered. “We can’t infinitely avoid talking about it, you know.”

Last night, after Shane had come in through the front door, Steven let him crash on the couch... and that was just about all Shane remembered. It was probably very sudden to his friend, but he was grateful for the eager hospitality.

“I know that,” Shane admitted. “But I still don’t know how much I can say.”

Steven pointed at him with his fork. “That you can say or that you want to say?”

“Both.” 

“Am I at least allowed to try and guess?”

_ Was he? How much could he even infer from how Shane had appeared? _ As long as he was committed to only nodding in acknowledgement, then perhaps it was fine with him. 

He nodded. Steven sighed, placing down his silverware.

“They visited you last night, didn’t they. They know where you live.”

Shane was confident that he could still appear stoic, so he responded. “I think they’ve known for a while.”

“Oh, I guess, also with the- uh- mirror-”

“I know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right… Uhm.” Steven coughed, then took a sip of his own coffee. “But they… they interacted with you last night. Gave… well… the  _ bandages _ ,” he implied. Shane appreciated how touchy he was being. He nodded. “Are you alright now?”

“Physically, yes.”

“You’re good with staying here, right?”

“But we don’t know how long the case is going to last. Or if it ever will end.”

Steven hesitated. He glanced away, gaze stubbornly staying away from Shane’s. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. Just… stay here as long as you need to.”

“Are you sure?” His brow furrowed in concentration, trying to figure out what Steven meant. 

“Did they tell you anything important?” Steven changed the subject instead.  _ Ah, yeah, of course… that’s important too. The case _ . Steven was probably dancing around the question the entire time. Shane didn’t mind too much — after all, being able to get a lead on the case could potentially bring them closer to a normal life than they had been all week. 

“I think so,” Shane mumbled, staring down at his food again. His appetite kept on wavering, so he played with his food a bit. “I don’t think I’ll be able to explain how quite yet.”

“Is there any way you’d maybe be able to write it down?”

“If I have the time and energy, then maybe.”

“Ah, okay.”

“And how’s Andrew?”

Shane knew he was done saying everything he would about last night, so he turned the tables around to see if his friend was alright. Obviously there was something up with them, however, with the way Steven’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“He’s… okay,” he began slowly. “With… he’s still recovering from the fire, but… I mean, the fire really did take a toll on him, but his burns are already starting to heal. That’s something, right?”

“There’s more to it though, isn’t there?”

Steven was silent for a long time. Maybe it was only a minute, but that minute dragged on infinitely, making the tension awkward between them. No matter what Steven said now, there was no way he could hide that something was up. He bit his lip as he thought, possibly trying to formulate a good enough answer.

“He’s… he’s still being distant,” Steven finally admitted. His voice was close to a whisper. “He’s been like this for a week now but… after the fire… it’s different. I’m worried about him. I just wish this all never happened, y’know? Shane... I care about him  _ so much _ , and it absolutely breaks me to see him like this.  _ It’s killing me _ .”

Shane looked at him. Steven was obviously pouring his heart out now, but Shane didn’t have the energy to respond properly. Now that he was done with his outburst, though, Steven seemed to have recovered himself, feeling better after letting what was on his mind out. He still bit his lip tentatively, staring at the food remains on his plate.

“We should go,” Steven suddenly decided, standing up. “We’re already late enough, and I have work I actually need to get done. Don’t worry about the dishes — I’ll get them done when we come back.”

They were both done with speaking. Perhaps it was for the better. And Steven was right… they had already spent enough time getting ready, and the entire day would pass if they lingered any longer.   
  


 

* * *

 

The one issue with actually getting to work was that Shane had no idea what he was going to do.

What Steven had suggested earlier sounded like a good idea, of course, but now Shane was stuck at his desk, staring at a blank piece of paper with a pencil in his hands. His mind was also turning up blank, and he couldn’t figure out how to word anything useful without giving too much of the personal aspect away.

“Is everything alright over here?” 

Bennett’s voice was pitched in his higher, friendlier tone, but Shane was still wary enough to flinch. When he glanced down at his paper again, despite having not written anything down yet, he realized he had instinctively covered it with his forearms.

Shane forced out a smile. “Of course! I’m just trying to get my thoughts organized on the case.”

“I heard you had a long night last night.” His hand was planted firmly on Shane’s desk — he knew there was no easy way to get rid of him now. Shane was careful to not let his expression fall into a grimace.

“So Steven did inform you about everything?”

Bennett drummed his fingers against the wood of the desk. “Technically, yes. From his side of the story.”

“I wasn’t feeling very well. I’m doing my best to catch up on my work now. I promise it won’t influence the case.”  _ Yeah right… _ more like the case was having an influence on  _ him  _ instead.

“Ah huh.” His eyes flickered down to Shane’s sleeves, Shane’s gaze following their trail. The bandages he had put over his rope burns were peeking out. Moving his arms away from the blank paper (as to not seem so suspicious), he hid the hint of bandages back into his shirt sleeves. “Are you sure you’re doing okay?”

“I’m still faring okay psychologically,” Shane assured, only partially lying through his teeth. “Any bruises I’ve gotten are from the case.”

“We have no problem bringing in a psycholog-”

“There’s no need,” Shane shook his head. “I’ve already thought it over: I’ll get one once the case is over. If anything, we need to concentrate on solving the case as quickly as possible.”

Brent was staring at him strangely. He was almost amused, prying eyes aware that there was more to Shane’s confident facade than he let on. Shane sucked in a deep breath and stared right back.

“You can’t let yourself be injured and say  _ ‘I’ll wait until the week is over’ _ to recover all in one go,” Brent told him. “Though you may fall again, it’s better to be bandaged up instead of pushing yourself past the point of recovery. We are not wasting resources, Madej.”

“I know,” Shane sighed, “But I’m fine. For now, at least. I have work to get done. Has Ryan been working on anything this morning?’

Bennett furrowed his brow. “I thought he was going to be coming in with you?”

“What? Why would you think that? I thought Steven already explained why  _ we  _ were late…”

“And Ryan is only ever fully present when you’re around.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Just as Shane finished speaking, the break room door opened, Ryan tumbling out. He seemed dazed, holding a coffee mug in one hand and barely keeping his balance. Catching sight of the two conversing, he smiled and began to make his way over.

“Speak of the devil,” Chief Bennett muttered underneath his breath.

“Hey,” Ryan greeted, immediately handing the mug to Shane. “How are you?”

“You look exhausted,” Shane put bluntly.  _ Whatever _ . He was grateful for the drink. “You don’t have to dote on me like this.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s fine. I briefly heard about it.”

“I didn’t see you come in,” Bennett asked, crossing his arms. Though he wasn’t necessarily on guard, he seemed to be barely quelling an amused expression. “Have you been floating around the office this entire time?”

“I think so?” Ryan was pulling a face. “I’m so exhausted I can barely remember anymore.” He turned to Shane. “Are you all good now? From whatever happened this morning?”

“Hopefully?” Shane answered. “Steven is a great host, believe it or not.”

“Oh,  _ Steven _ .”  _ Why did Ryan have to be so touchy about Steven? _ There was nothing wrong with him. Ryan shook himself and continued, smiling slightly. “Is that so?”

“Of course. Cooked the best goddamn breakfast I’ve had in awhile. Saved my life.”

“Ah hah. And why Steven?”

Shane shrugged. “I needed to stay over someplace, and Steven had already offered before.” Though Ryan raised an eyebrow at the comment, thankfully, he didn’t push the subject any further.

“Oh. I see.”

“Well, that’s that,” Chief Bennett exclaimed, pushing himself off of Shane’s desk, “But we’re still nowhere near to solving this case. You two should probably eat something and then get right back to work.”

“It’s lunch already?” Shane asked incredulously. It still felt like he had just woken up. One glance at a clock on the wall told him it was already noon. “God, you’re right…”

“Did you just eat recently?” Ryan poked at Shane’s shoulder. There was barely any pressure behind it - it was almost endearing. “We can just hop by a bakery or something, get something small. My treat.”

“Well… if you insist,” Shane smirked, getting up. “Lead the way, if you must.”

  
  
  
  
  


Steven ended up tagging along.

Ryan had originally been more animated, but once it was the three of them, the entire group became quieter. Shane still had the events from the night previous mulling around his mind, but Steven also seemed to have something on his mind. Ryan just seemed to float slightly closer to Shane.

At some point along the way to the place that Ryan had suggested, both him and Steven began eagerly talking about something on basketball. Though Shane didn’t have too good of an idea what they were saying or who they were talking about, he felt slightly more at ease now that they were getting along. Perhaps Steven was too dense before to even notice the slight change in Ryan’s attitude. 

The light conversation continued until they arrived at the bakery. Both Shane and Steven ordered a sandwich and coffee each, and Steven volunteered to wait for the food as Shane and Ryan went to snag a nice table by the window. 

“He’s a good guy,” Shane mentioned offhandedly, gazing at his friend still lingering by the counter. Glancing back at Ryan, he noticed that an unreadable expression was gracing his features.  _ Oops…  _ Shane had voiced his thoughts. “Steven, I mean.”

Ryan sighed. “I can’t deny that, I guess.” He slid off his trenchcoat, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms. Leaning against the window in the seat across from Shane, Ryan studied him carefully. Shane shifted under his gaze.

“You were acting kind of hostile towards him before,” Shane commented lightly.  _ Maybe Ryan could take it as teasing. _

“Was I?” Ryan’s line of sight shifted over to Steven. Though someone else was being served, he stepped up to the counter, as if he was expecting for their order to be next.

“But basketball, huh?”

“I was glad to find another Lakers fan, honestly.”

“Is that a team or something?”

Ryan gaped at him. “You’re kidding me, right?” Shane shrugged, so Ryan reached over the table to flick his resting arm. As Shane laughed and retreated his arm away, Ryan turned to the side to snitch on him. “Steven, did you hear him?”

Steven had just returned with the food, easily sliding Shane’s share over as he sat down beside him. “Hear what?”

“Shane doesn’t even know who the Lakers are.”

“Do you see the type of shameful existence I’ve had to put up with now?” Shane glared at the two of them as they laughed.

“The world doesn’t revolve around basketball, y’know,” Shane rolled his eyes.

“You should eat up, big boy.” Steven pointed at the wrapped sandwich in front of his friend. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

“What about you?”

“I got mine to go. I’m going to have it back at the office when I’m feeling hungrier.”

Shane, being surprisingly hungrier than he thought he was, didn’t hesitate to scarf down his own lunch. Ryan was content to listen to the cool jazz filtering through unplaceable speakers behind the chatter of the bakery and staring out the window, while Steven busied himself with his phone. His face was morphed with concentration, and Shane ended up staring at him out of concern, watching his thumbs fly across his phone screen. Steven’s entire body shook with every bounce of his leg. Some burning curiosity in the pit of his stomach egged him to peek over his friend’s shoulder to see for himself what was so concerning, but he was able keep just enough impulse control to respect Steven’s privacy. After all, knowing him, it was probably Andrew that he was speaking with, and there was definitely a realm of privacy involved that Shane didn’t want to intrude on in the first place.

Ryan wasn’t faring better, but in his own special way. Sitting across from him, Ryan looked to be a part of an old faded photograph, simply existing and frozen in time. If Shane thought hard enough, he supposed that Ryan perhaps did look paler than he had been before. It was probably none of his business, but nonetheless he still felt the urge to invite him over to feed him. The idea sat heavy in his mind as he genuinely considered it. Biting his lip, he turned back to Steven.

“Hey, man-” Shane began, pausing amusedly when he saw how much Steven jumped. Steven shook himself, quickly turning his phone around and placing it down on his lap before turning to Shane. “Hey, are you really doing okay?”

Steven tried to brush him off, yet he still couldn’t hold eye contact. “I already told you, Shane, I’m fine. I’m just worried.”

“About the case?” Ryan said airily. Shane didn’t even realize he was present enough to have been listening. Steven nodded.

“Well, yes, but as I’ve explained to Shane earlier, I’m still worried about Andrew.”

“You're close with Andrew?”

Steven gave him an odd look, side-glancing at Shane. “Yes… I’d say I’m the closest to Andrew in the office.”

“Oh?” Ryan’s forehead scrunched up. “What about Shane?”

Shane piped up. “We’re very good friends, Ryan. Steven’s just an all-around friendly person. What… have you never met any friendly people before?”

Ryan blinked. There seemed to be some sort of haze over his eyes before his vision focused and his features relaxed into a tiny smile. “Oh, of course. Well, I guess you could say that the Fed office I work in isn’t the friendliest?”

“So they’re all stuck up in your office?”

“It’s one of the reasons why I enjoy staying here,” Ryan winked at Shane, who laughed heartily in response. When Shane glanced back to his coworker to gauge his reaction, Steven had already pulled his phone out and started texting again.

“I need to go use the washroom,” Steven suddenly announced, standing up and shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll be back right away.” He almost looked queasy. Shane narrowed his eyes.

“Alright. Don’t die in there,” Shane responded, watching Steven indeed head to the washrooms.

The absence of Steven was met with even more silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Shane could see that Ryan had become distant again. He stared off into space, unblinking. His short breaths were almost undetectable underneath his trenchcoat. Shane was unable to come up with an effective conversation starter, so he took a sip of his coffee before studying some of the various other people that had entered the bakery.

Many a character were present in the bakery. It was calming to study them: the elderly women catching up over coffee and cake, the college couple or two on awkward dates, the old man hidden behind a tall newspaper, and the cute but flustered cashier that was attending to the next person in line. 

Just behind that customer, Shane’s gaze landed on a mousy man with glasses absently staring right at him. To his surprise, Shane was able to recognize the customer as a faithful client to the piano bar he would occasionally work at. Though he was not confident that the man recognized him, he smiled in greeting. The man startled, awkwardly smiling back before adjusting his glasses and turning back to the line.

Returning to his own smaller environment, Shane was not surprised to see that Ryan hadn’t moved a muscle. Sighing, he decided to say something…  _ anything _ .

“And how about you?” Shane hummed. He took another sip of his coffee. “Are you okay?”

Ryan didn’t completely snap out of whatever trance he was swept away in, but at least he still had the decency to reply. “I suppose so.”

“Your attention wavers quite easily now.”

He made an attempt to shift his gaze to Shane. “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“More like exhausted.”

“It’s more like I’ve been completely drained of energy,” Ryan smiled weakly. “Sorry if it’s affecting the case.”

“Not at all. It was your decision to stay in Mercy.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t take on too much if it’s tiring you out this much.”

“I could say the same for you.”

_ Ah _ . He was right. Shane scrambled to find a retort. “Well, that’s because I’ve been directly involved in the case.”

“Still doesn’t mean you can’t take a break.”

“Ryan,” Shane pushed. He got a sudden urge to lean across the table — which he did — and brush his fingers consolidating down his friend’s arm. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

Ryan’s attention flickered down to Shane’s fingers for a millisecond, and he immediately brought his hand back, wondering if he had overstepped his boundaries. 

“You should be the most messed up out of the three of us,” Ryan grumbled. Nevertheless, he didn’t push the subject, slipping back into his absent daze. 

So Ryan noticed Steven was off too. Not like it was too difficult: it had already been a while, and Shane finally realized that Steven still wasn’t back from the washroom yet. He wouldn’t fret yet, but at some point he decided he would have to check up on his friend. 

Speaking of Steven, Ryan didn’t know too much about why he was acting strangely either, did he? Ryan was still very much on the outside of the personal affairs of the Mercy Police Department. Even so, it was only an astute observation that lead Shane to his knowledge of Steven and Andrew’s relationship.

Still, Steven had glanced at him when mentioning Andrew to Ryan. Was he surprised that Ryan didn’t know yet? Was he wanting Shane to not mention how much their relationship was affecting the case and Steven’s stability?

“You do know Steven and Andrew are dating, right?” Shane blurted out before he could process what he was saying. He flinched out of his own thoughts, but was relatively surprised to see how attentive Ryan suddenly became. 

“What?”

Shane hesitated. “Well, he’s never explicitly told me, but they’re definitely dating.”

“How am I really supposed to believe you then?” 

“Even though he hasn’t formally told me, we’ve discussed it plenty of times.” Accidentally catching them make out was more than enough evidence. What else did dating even tend to entail? “Steven’s just worried about Andrew since the prison fire.”

“That was only Monday, wasn’t it?”

Shane nodded. “He was in the prison when the fire started and sustained a few burns.”

“So did you.”

“But they’re doing okay now.” Shane lifted both his hands so Ryan could see what was left of the burns. “They weren’t too bad to begin with.”

“And what about your arms?”

Shane paused. His hands were still lifted above the table, and his gaze flickered over to the bandage sticking out from underneath his sleeve. Breath caught in his throat, he desperately thought of what he would be able to tell Ryan.

“That’s from last night, not the fire,” Shane murmured. Dropping his arms back on the table, he played with the hems of his sleeves. “It’s nothing too serious.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Nothing serious?”

He shook his head. “Nothing scarring… I just wanted to be able to treat it properly.”

“Does it have to do with that one incident you were discussing with Steven earlier this week?”

It took a minute for Shane to figure out what he was talking about.  _ Oh…  _ the shower incident. That already felt so far in the past. Not only that, but the words etched onto his bathroom mirror were nothing compared to the sickeningly soothing temptations whispered to him last night. Shane gulped.

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t quite realize.”

“That’s why I’m staying with Steven for now.”

“Ah, of course… that’s why,” Ryan laughed to himself. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes. “I hope that’ll at least keep the criminals at bay.”

“Them not knowing where I am sleeping?” Shane scoffed. “Ryan… they even called me at  _ work _ . I don’t think it will keep them at bay for long.”

Ryan sighed. Leaning forward, he let his own hands reach across the table, meeting Shane’s at the centre. His touch ghosted the palms of Shane’s hands, making the sensitive skin prickle and tingle.

“Does it still hurt?” Ryan asked, slowly settling his hands down. Shane frowned, trying his best to gauge what kind of sensation he was feeling.

“A little bit. Not too much… your hands are still really fucking cold though.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“No, it’s alright. It’s soothing.”

To prove his point, he wrapped his hands around Ryan’s, reveling in the coolness it brought to his old burns. Shane was absolutely content to sit there quietly. It was as if his mind had been tuned to a gentle grey noise, lulling him into a temporary sense of peace. Though unconscious, he squeezed Ryan’s hands slightly tighter. 

At some point, Shane’s line of sight floated back over to Ryan. Ryan had an expression on that he couldn’t quite read; it was as if he was confused, content, or perhaps even curious. When both made eye contact, they continued to stare at each other for a while, digging deeper into each other’s eyes as if it would give them insight to what the other was thinking.

Suddenly, Shane decided that being unable to read Ryan was too much for his brain, and ended up pulling his hands back to his lap. Ryan followed in suit, lagging slightly behind in his motions.

One glance away from their little moment was more than enough to provide a distraction for Shane. “Oh, look. Steven’s finally back.”

Ryan blinked as if he was trying to wake himself up. “O- oh, I guess you’re right.”

“Is everything okay?” Shane asked his friend as Steven sat back down in his spot. He could already tell that Steven was a shade paler than when he had left.

“Y- yeah… yeah, everything is… okay, I guess,” Steven stumbled over his words, struggling to find a meniable excuse suitable for the other two. “I just- Shane? Do you have a mint, by any chance?”

“A mint? I have some  _ Fisherman’s Friends, _ if you’d like.”

“Anything’s fine.”

As Shane retrieved the  _ Fisherman’s Friend _ for Steven, he continued. “Look, if it’s really going to bug you, you can just tell me later and when you’re ready. I just want to see if I can get a danish to go.”

Shane decided, once he was up at the counter to make a decision, that he deserved more of a treat and chose an eclair to go with his danish.

“Would you like to treat yourself to anything else, sir?” the cute cashier teased him, adding up his total. Her eyes twinkled and distracted Shane from searching for some cash. The opportunity was too tempting to pass up.

“I think I’m alright… unless you wanted a treat yourself?”

Her giggle pealed like tiny bells. As she spoke, she brushed a loose strand of chestnut hair that had slipped from her side ponytail behind her ear. “As tempting as that may be, workers already get so many perks.”

“Ah well,” Shane smirked, handing over a twenty. Her fingers brushed over his briefly as she reached for the change. “Maybe next time. You can keep the change,” he added on, winking cheekily. The cashier bit her lip and nodded at him, barely containing a smile.

“Maybe. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Greeting his friends back at the entrance, Shane noticed that Ryan had spaced out again, this time staring off to where the cashier was. Steven had hurriedly stuffed his own phone back in his pocket at Shane’s approach, but Shane was still more intrigued at Ryan’s expression.

“What… are you jealous? Do you need a coffee too?” Shane joked, waving a free hand in front of his friend’s face. Ryan blinked a few times, glancing suddenly between Shane’s face and the brown paper pastry bag in his arms. “Are you half dead or something?”

Ryan glared at him. “I’m perfectly alive, thank you very much. Let’s just go.”

“You’re quite the feisty one, huh?”

“At least I’m not irritable.”

“I’m not irritable, am I, Steven?”

“Please don’t bring me into your petty conversation… but yeah… maybe a little bit…”

“You guys are worthless.”

The menial chit-chat continued for a while, which Shane, though he would never admit it, quite enjoyed. Now that they were out and walking, Ryan had relaxed quite a bit, easing into conversation as it was the most natural thing to him. Steven even seemed to put aside whatever concerning thing he was texting Andrew or whoever about, bursting into laughter at his companions’ foolishness.

“Here — can you wait for me for just a second?” Steven unexpectedly piped up, veering off towards the street. He was approaching a car that was parked in a smaller lot, rummaging in his jacket pocket for keys. “I just left some work in my car.”

“Why are you parked so far from the office?” Ryan observed. “Don’t you have better parking there?”

“I had to run some errands in the morning,” Steven waved off, already half inside of his trunk, digging around for some ring binder. Both Shane and Ryan at the stores attached to the lot: a drug store, a post office, a mattress store, a medical clinic, a Mexican restaurant… it was somewhat difficult to discern what exactly he had meant by  _ ‘errands’ _ , but it wasn’t really like it was their business anyhow. “Plus it’s close enough to the office. I thought it would be a nice walk in the morning.” 

As Steven continued to organize his trunk, both Ryan and Shane stood idly, absently watching the occasional car pass or a bird fly by. It was exhausting simply staying attentive, and Shane knew he had been running low on steam. Even thinking about the case was too much.

Not much had happened for the overall case. Though it was still only Monday that the fire had occurred, Revelations hadn’t done anything public since. Yes, there was still the entire incident with Shane the night previous, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was slightly more personal on both ends of the deal. Though two days difference shouldn’t have been much, the Revelations case was one that kept the entire Mercy Police Department on their toes every second of the day.

And speak of the devil.

Shane hated that it was as if he had subconsciously predicted something to occur, but the sound of a gunshot not more than a block away had Shane and Ryan bolting, sprinting as fast as they could to the source of the noise. One of them managed to gesture for Steven to stay back and call the department for backup.

Once both of them neared an alley beside the shopping area Steven was parked near, a man emerged from the shadows of that back street. His mere appearance took Shane’s breath away.

The man in question was scrawnier and slightly smaller than the John Novel that had visited Shane last night, but the black hoodie with the large white cross burned on the front made them undoubtedly a part of Revelations. Though the bottom half of their face was covered by some sort of black mask, they were also different in the thinly half-rimmed glasses they sported. 

Perhaps the other dead giveaway was the gleam of the Mateba 6 Unica in their grasp. 

Once they caught sight of Shane making a beeline to him, he booked it. In the distance, Shane could vaguely hear Ryan confirming that he could, in fact, see a body in the alleyway, so his main concern shifted to the criminal themselves. The criminal was no track star, but they were still light on their feet.

The second Shane saw them dive towards a deep grey Mazda sedan, Shane swivelled on his heel and went to shout for Steven’s help. Luckily, Steven had already read the situation and was driving by the curb to let Shane and Ryan hop in. Even as Ryan was closing his door, Steven already took off, hot in pursuit of the sedan. 

“Does the station already know?” Shane asked hurriedly, keeping his eyes trained on the other car from the passenger seat. 

“I reported it as soon as the gunshot went off,” Steven murmured, concentrating mainly on his driving. “I told them about the casualty too, Ryan. I just got off the phone as you both got in.”

“Thank god.”

Nothing made Shane more thankful than the fact that Steven’s driving skills were more than up to par with the criminal’s. Though he was definitely pushing the speed limit and taking some very sharp turns, he still managed to weave through traffic and pedestrians like a tailor with a needle. The entire experience was thrilling — both from the hum of the engine and the adrenaline coursing through their veins. 

“They can’t hide,” Shane murmured. “Mercy’s only so big.”

“It’s still big enough,” Steven pressed. The sedan was hard to pick out from a few cars that were waiting at a light, but he managed to turn to a smaller street and pursue the sedan from there. “We’re just big enough to be a city.”

“Ah, fuck.” Shane glance in the rearview mirror. Ryan was still back there, sitting quietly and keeping to himself. He seemed distant again, barely present in the current situation. 

“You know…” Shane continued, voice hushed, “They definitely are from Revelations.”

“You can’t just jump to conclusions-”

“Yes I can,” he replied sternly. “First, they had the Mateba. We already did enough research to figure that it’s rare enough to find them in the area… much less used in this context.”

Steven remained silent. Perhaps it was because he was still trying to figure out where the car was, only having lost it for a street before turning in the right direction and seeing it disappear down another secluded back alley.

“They also had the hoodie.”

“The hoodie?” 

“I saw the exact same hoodie last night.”

Something was different about Steven’s silence. He was still concentrating on not crashing into anything (and with some of his turns, he came very damn close), but it felt… more severe. Even Ryan’s attention was brought back, his questioning stare burning the back of Shane’s head. 

“Was it  _ him _ ?” Steven strained out. 

“No,” Shane confirmed. “This is someone else. It’s an organization, after all.”

Shane was more than thankful that Ryan didn’t pry further. There was already so much going on in the present moment that he didn’t think he would be able to handle the emotional toll revisiting last night would have. 

Steven suddenly made a sharp turn into a larger street, jostling Shane out of his thoughts as he rebounded off the dashboard. Flung into reality with the intensity of it, Shane happened to glance out of his passenger-side window as the car drifted, pivoting around the curb on Shane’s side.

There was a man standing on that curb. His posture was absolutely exquisite, as if he knew where his importance stood in the world. Though he was quite the bizarre character, he was effectively concealed with his long dark autumn coat and the round clubmaster sunglasses perched atop his nose. Curly black hair was styled neatly on his head like a crown, and his face was sculpted like a marble statue.

Everything that Shane saw in those few seconds, he saw in slow motion. Shane saw almost every angle of the strange man as the car turned. Shane saw how the man didn’t move a muscle as the car veered so closely to his black polished shoes. Shane saw how the corners of his lips twitched into a small smirk as Shane continued to watch him.

Shane felt the intense, menacing aura that radiated freely from the man.

With a shudder and a leap back into real time, Shane let his attention snap back to the chase at hand, letting the queer image of the man trickle away to the back of his mind. The man kept on threatening to resurface, but Shane steeled himself to concentrate.

“You’re running low on gas,” Shane observed quietly. There were still a few miles to go, but he had no idea how long the chase would last.

“I know,” Steven murmured, “But I have to risk it.”

“Mm.”

One thing they could definitely be thankful for was the fact that at least the sedan wasn’t causing any more casualties. They were already known to have murdered at least one person, but they didn’t seem to care about all of the pedestrians walking about (even if their driving remained a bit reckless). Once they turned into a warehouse area, the criminal took a few more liberties in their driving skill.

“ _ Shit… can’t they just run out of gas first? _ ” Steven muttered.

“Wait!” Ryan almost shouted from the back seat. Shane jumped; he had almost forgotten that Ryan was there. “They stopped! By that warehouse! Look, they’re running!”

“Go!” Steven barked out. Shane was already unbuckling his seatbelt as Steven slammed on the brakes. “I’ll call the station!”

Shane was out on his feet and sprinting in seconds, making a mad dash to chase the criminal with Ryan hot on his heels. Dust rose from each step on the dry dirt road as they made their way into an abandoned warehouse.

Most of Shane’s memory remained hazy around this point. There really wasn’t much to this event. They caught sight of the criminal dodging around various equipment and structures, scampering from room to room. The dust was bad enough that Shane almost had to stop a few times to cough it out of his lungs. 

It felt like it had taken no time at all, but the criminal had managed to slink away and out of the warehouse, running around the perimeter of the building. Shane dumbly followed along as close as he could (even though there was still quite a distance between them), knowing perfectly well where the criminal was headed.

Shane almost sprained an ankle as he landed from jumping over a few boxes, hindering him and forcing him to watch the criminal approach the Mazda sedan once again. Desperately, he ushered Ryan along, making a beeline for Steven’s car. 

“Go! Go, go, go!” Shane shouted, slamming his door shut again. “We can’t let them get away!” Steven was already on the ball, foot on the gas before Shane finished speaking.

“No,” Steven spat out, putting more pressure on the gas pedal. The car was barely moving. “ _ No, no, no, no- FUCK _ .” 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Shane muttered just under his breath. 

The car had run out of gas.

Steven was gripping his steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. Shane was threading his fingers through his own hair. 

“Did someone at least get some photographic evidence?” Ryan tried to supply, sounding way too calm in contrast to the other two.

“I did get some before the entire car chase thing started,” Steven admitted. He took a deep breath.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Shane fumed. His voice was dangerously low.

“ _ Shane _ ,” Steven warned.

There was a cool hand on Shane’s shoulder, trying to ease the tension away. “Calm down, Shane-” Ryan began, only to be interrupted by Shane.

“What do you mean,  _ calm down _ ? Do you know how much  _ shit  _ I’ve gone through in the past two weeks?” He was getting desperate. He could feel it, but he was losing control. “We were so  _ fucking  _ close to getting a really big fucking lead in the case, but of course-”

“We know you’re exhausted, Shane,” Steven said softly, trying to ease him out of his panic. “We know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”

Shane glared pointedly out in front of him. Steven was right. The case was getting the best of him again. Taking a deep sigh, he did his best to compose himself.

“Fine,” he admitted. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just…”

“Just thought one good thing could come to us?” Ryan supplied.

Shane laughed sadistically. “If you could even call it that.”

It took only fifteen minutes for someone from the office to come pick them up. Steven stayed back momentarily to figure out what he was doing with his car, and for the meanwhile, they brought everything else they needed back to the office. Shane was tempted to fall asleep in the back seat beside Ryan, brown pastry bag in his lap.

When they finally got back, they realized it was already halfway through the afternoon. The entire situation was explained to Chief Bennett, and with one thorough glance, he decided that the three were allowed to have the rest of the day off. Guilt plagued Shane’s conscience from the thought of already taking time off of work in the morning, but Brent insisted that he would be even less productive with how he was then. 

The walk back home to Steven’s house was silent. Shane was trying his best not to think too hard, and Steven was texting away on his phone again, brow furrowed.

When they walked in the house, Steven went straight to the kitchen. Shane sat on the couch, not planning on getting up any time soon. A tea kettle whistled only a few minutes later.

“I thought you’d want one,” Steven offered, a steaming mug of peppermint tea in each hand. He handed one to Shane, who took it gratefully.

“Thanks man.”

“It’s no problem.”

The mug was comforting. It warmed the palm of his hands, soothing in nature. Though the burns on his skin still prickled at the contact, he let himself feel the slight pain, savouring the sense of  _ feeling _ . 

“It wasn’t him,” Steven spoke up. He took a long and slow sip from his mug before continuing. “It was someone else who visited you last night, right?” Shane nodded. “And how many of them do you think there are?”

“At least three,” Shane mused. He stared down at the ripples in his tea.

“Four,” Steven hummed absently. Shane raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t have the energy to question it.

“Probably.”

“You mentioned the hoodie.”

“That’s what John had. Same cross.”

“So the sweetgrass crosses… there definitely is a connection.”

“We already knew that last week.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Steven?”

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

Steven laughed. “With everything that’s going on?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Shane knew Steven was avoiding the question. Though he would be patient, Shane still wouldn’t let him avoid it completely. Not this time. Shane had already shared quite a bit from his side, but he was also worried about his friend.

“You keep on texting Andrew, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Has he gotten worse?”

Still nothing. Steven continued to stare at the tea in his hands, expression undecipherable. 

“No, he’s… his burns are healing well,” Steven finally sighed. He took another sip of his tea. “I still worry about him.”

Shane smiled gently. “Of course you do. I just worry about you too.”

“Thanks. Thanks for that, I mean. I worry about you too, you know?”

“I know. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Steven sat back comfortably into the cushions of his armchair, glancing around the living room. “Do you like it here?”

“Do I like it here?”

“Do you like it here?” Steven confirmed, gesturing vaguely around him with his chin.

“I suppose I do, yes. Why?”

“You don’t mind staying here for a while?”

“No, I don’t but… won’t I interfere with you and Andrew?”

He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that.”

Shane took to glancing around the room with Steven. He had only visited Steven’s home a few times before, but now, he finally noticed, it looked significantly… emptier. There were still cozy decorative pieces lining the walls and the mantelpiece but… something about it was off. It almost felt like a showhome in some way.

Steven was moving in his spot again, leaning forward to put his mug down on the coffee table. Shane’s attention was brought back to him, watching how he nervously crossed his arms in front of him and hunched over. He seemed to be steeling himself to make a decision, biting his lip and letting his gaze flicker everywhere except for his friend. Steven only spoke after taking a deep breath.

“I have something to tell you, Shane.”

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


**_Two days later — Unknown_ **

  
  


_ “What is it, my child?” _

_ Abbadon stepped out of the darkness, rigid as a soldier as she reported to her superior. Though his chair was facing away from her, she knew she held his attention. _

_ “It’s Raziel, Abeoji.” _

_ “And what about Raziel?” _

_ “We’ve checked his residence. I even scouted the workplace. He’s gone without a trace.” _

_ “Is that so?” Beoji mused. His voice hinted nothing but amusement. _

_ “It’s God’s truth. Should I begin searching the city for him? Should I contact Cassiel-?” _

_ “There’s no need, my child,” Beoji simpered. A ringed hand appeared from behind his throne, waving her to silence. “I suspected as much.” _

_ “Abeoji-” _

_ “You are always so eager, Abbadon.” Abbadon flushed at his praise. “Though this is not a matter to fret over.” _

_ “Why is that?” _

_ “Because he will not last long out there. He cannot utter a word because he already knows the consequences.” _

_ “Raziel was the last of us, wasn’t he?” _

_ “Yes, and perhaps a misjudgement on His part.” _

_ “I thought He was never wrong. Raziel has done some good for us before.” _

_ “Raziel has never been suited for the work of Revelations.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been waiting to do this next chapter for a long time too yall......  
> it's all standrew. that's it. so much. :)


	12. Andrew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven clears a few things up for Shane as he explains his side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i know im kinda late bUT!!! take this almost 10.4k monstrosity!!!! theres a LOT of important things that are happening and well.... you'll just have to read and see i guess (id say its one of the most important chapters out so far so)
> 
> i k n o w im late and i wanna say the next chapter will be out ""on time"" but my planning isnt really fleshed out for ch14 and so on, plus all my american uni applications are due january 1st so im rushing to get those done hhhhhhhh
> 
> AND THANKS TO NINA ( [@bergarASS](http://bergarass.tumblr.com/) / [redmaynes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmaynes) ) ONCE AGAIN FOR HELPING BETA!!! oml shes been busy lately but bless her for helping me out anyway!!

“I have something to tell you, Shane.”

Though Shane had had the feeling that Steven was hiding something, the fact that he was being so blunt about it made him realize that it was probably a lot more serious than some simple worrying. Steven was fiddling with his hands now, unsure of where to place them as his mind raced.

Shane exhaled slowly, bringing his mug back to his lips once he couldn’t find the right words. Immense curiosity burned throughout him, but he managed to keep it quelled in favour of not wanting to scare off his friend. Even when he did speak, he chose his words with much consideration.

“You… what are you-… what do you want to tell me?”

“I…” Steven trailed off. It wasn’t that he was hesitating anymore; it was more like he was at a loss of what exactly to say or how to say it. His face contorted, twisting with confusion the more he thought.

“Is it about the case?” Shane offered, hoping to ease him into his confession.

Steven nodded. “Yeah it is but… I think I’m going to have to start from the very beginning.”

“You can take your time,” he reminded him softly. “I’m going to be here all night.” Steven giggled nervously, and perhaps he was considering taking all the hours of the night to explain his predicament. It’s not like Shane minded much: the case had such a prevalent connection to him personally, and of course he wanted to be there for his friend.

“Okay. I hope you’re serious, ‘cause I’m going to start from the very beginning.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The first time Steven met Andrew was Andrew’s first day at the office.

Steven hadn’t actually been working in the police department for too long. He showed promise in the area, but he was still relatively fresh out of training, somewhat inexperienced in the trade. Nevertheless, he was quick to make friends with the entire office the second he broke out of his little shell he had arrived in.

Keith Habersberger was originally Steven’s first partner. And to be fair, Keith was a great partner; he was incredibly helpful in showing Steven the ins and outs of the police department, and not to mention he was an absolute character, always talking about something new and interesting. Steven was left for a while to work at the office alone when Keith was asked to work in security for a short period of time. This was critical to being so close to Andrew in the first place.

Andrew was about the same age as Steven when he came to the department, but still needed someone to partner up with him. Chief Bennett, knowing Steven relatively well at this point and seeing that he worked well in his position, let him partner up with Andrew and show him how things worked in the Mercy police department.

At first, Andrew kept mainly to himself: he was courteous when spoken to, but it was rare to really see him open up personally. He almost seemed to have no personal life at all, in fact. Nevertheless, both he and Steven were two opposing forces, colliding and mixing together in perfect harmony. Somehow, Steven came to understand Andrew and all of his mannerisms, and in turn, Andrew knew how best to deal with Steven in any type of situation. They became a sort of dream team together, working efficiently together as they continued to build their relationship.

They were so close, in fact, that by the time Keith came back to patrolling, he was paired with Shane instead of Steven, who had just newly been recruited.

This, of course, is where Shane became a part of the story. Because of his constant presence in the police force since his internship during his high school years, he was able to gain connections that moved him all the way out to Mercy. Pretty much all of his training was done in Chicago beforehand, so the entire crime scene and community in Mercy was foreign to him.

Only because of timing and sitting near to each other, Steven gravitated towards Shane, pushing to relate to someone in his workplace. Shane wasn’t opposed to it at all and was actually grateful for the connection he could make within the department.

Not only had it been evident to Shane but also anyone else who interacted with Mercy police department of the relationship between Steven and Andrew. About a month into his job did Shane make that bet with Sara about the relationship, after having worked with her for so long during the spike of odd suicides in Mercy (as he had been tasked with similar ones in training back in Chicago). There was no way Steven and Andrew were oblivious to the fact either, as Shane definitely teased Steven about Andrew on occasion.

Of course, the two were always very open about their relationship together. They hung out constantly, and there were many a night that they shared together at Steven’s house where Andrew would cook something magnificent and try to explain it to Steven, they’d split a bottle of wine, and then watch a movie on the couch in the dark. 

There was so much more to their relationship than only with gestures. Their relationship comprised of millions of complex inside jokes, easily making anyone else present feel like a third wheel. Sometimes they could have an entire conversation with their eyes alone: discussing anything from agreeing to a decision or joking about something that was being said to them. No one could understand Steven or Andrew better like the other did.

It wasn’t like either of them were dense…  _ okay, maybe they were _ , at least a little bit. 

Steven was naturally attracted to Andrew; like a coin to a magnet. He felt like he could relate easily to his friend and that they understood each other to the extent they could almost read each other’s minds. Perhaps it was the work of being so close for a few years, but Steven still craved that connection. Not only did he want to talk to him constantly or be by his side, but Steven also wanted to be physically closer, gravitating to Andrew’s warmth when they were together.

And yet, he still couldn’t see any options for their relationship beyond close friends.

Of course, Steven had rationalized, that being friends was equally as beneficial of a relationship as dating someone. That was evident by the type of relationship Steven and Shane shared. He also wasn’t quite able to sort out what his thoughts and wants actually meant, deciding that there was no need to figure out his emotions and let them come and go. Every once in a while he’d wonder briefly why he felt a longing when Andrew was gone or an odd pain when he wasn’t able to contact Andrew for a while, but let it pass as feelings of relief and content washed over him once they met again.

When he did figure out what it all meant (albeit quite a few years late), the realization shocked Steven. He became much more nervous around his friend despite Andrew still being that source of comfort he constantly craved, and he was instantly more aware of his spatial surroundings and how fast his heart was beating and how even his breathing was. It was difficult to quell those newfound observations down, but he became attentive of everything between them, hoping that Andrew wouldn’t notice for the sake of preserving their safe relationship.

Steven later found out Andrew was exactly the same. Both had orbited around each other, constantly getting closer but never quite figuring out where to go from there. 

That is, until the week this current case began.

_ “Do you ever think that you won’t make it through a case?” _ Andrew had told him one evening over the phone. Or —to be more accurate— very early in the morning.

Steven blanked. “What?”  _ What could have possibly brought that thought on? _ “What do you mean?”

_ “Just in general.” _

“Andrew… we’ve been working on the same cases for god knows how many years now. Is there something I’m missing?”

_ “No. I’m just wondering if the thought has ever crossed your mind.” _

“Whether or not I’ll die on the job?”

_ “Yeah, something like that.” _

“...  _ Maybe _ ?”

_ “You know what… nevermind. It was an odd question anyway.” _

“No!” Steven fought quickly, his voice raising out of his exhaustion. “No, I just… it was a bit… we’re both tired from everything that’s happened and it’s late… I get it. Was maybe what happened tonight what got you thinking?”

Both Steven and Andrew were on their ways back home from the piano bar and everything that had happened that day. They both were the ones who had to deal with the bomb threat, and Steven was the one who had to go back and discover the casualties back at the bar. Shane had eventually insinuated before they parted that he thought this was probably all connected to the Eliza Chang case, already exponentially worsening the situation. It was too organized and calculated of a threat to not be taken seriously.

_ “Yes,” _ Andrew finally admitted, sighing. _ “I just… uhm… have a bad feeling this is only the start of it all, and I’m not really sure what’s going to happen.” _

“Don’t worry about it too much!” Steven tried to assure him, giggling lightly. “We’re the professionals! We should be equipped to deal with all the rough and tough situations like this… this serial killer is no match for us!” He appreciated the small chuckle he got from his encouragement. “But… Andrew? On a more serious note, why do you think it’s only the beginning?”

_ “It’s just… I… It seems like it’s already escalating. I dunno, I don’t wanna make you worry too.” _

“You know I’m going to worry about you anyways, right?”

_ “And that’s exactly what I’m worried about.” _

Finally arriving back to his house, Steven juggled his phone between his ear and shoulder as he locked up his car. “Well… I’m going to try and take a quick nap before I get back to the office. I know Bennett wants us there as soon as possible.”

_ “Do you want me to hang up now?” _

“Not really, no.”

_ “Okay.” _

“Are you still driving?”

_ “Yes. I’m almost there.” _

“Well… okay. I don’t want to compromise your safety either.”

_ “Says the person who was on the phone with me as they were driving home.” _

“‘Kay-  _ Look _ !” Steven tried in vain to protest as both burst into giggles. As their laughter subsided, their breaths slowed, restoring the peaceful equilibrium they held between each other. Steven could vaguely hear sounds of passing vehicles on the other side of the phone. 

_ “Are you thinking of something?” _ Andrew murmured. Funny how much Andrew’s voice eased him.

“Weren’t you thinking of something?”

_ “Hm… Are you still thinking about what I said earlier?” _

“What you said earlier?”

_ “Yeah.” _

“... Yeah.” Now that Andrew had pointed it out, this new case that was arising was definitely more severe than almost anything they had encountered in the history of Mercy, and it really made him begin to question what was going to be in store for them later on. “Being put in a dangerous situation really makes you…  _ reflect _ , huh?”

_ “About what’s important to you, right?” _

“Y- yeah.”  _ What was important to him? What did Steven value the most? _ “I… hm. So you think about it too, then.”

_ “Of course.” _ His voice became a bit robotic, and Steven had to strain to listen to what Andrew said next.  _ “Oh, crap… My service is almost gone… I’m gonna hang up now.” _

“Okay,” Steven mumbled. He didn’t want to be separated from Andrew quite yet, but it wasn’t like it would be long until he’d see him again.

_ “I’ll see you in a few hours.” _

“Okay. See you then.”

_ “Bye.” _

“Bye.”

The line cut almost instantly after he finished speaking. Letting his phone linger by his ear just a little longer, Steven finally let his arm drop, sighing and moving to actually get inside his house and collapse on his bed.

 

* * *

 

“Can you believe it’s still Monday?” Andrew asked absently, gazing out the passenger-side window. He turned his head briefly to gauge a reaction from his friend.

“Way too long of a Monday,” Steven agreed, still concentrating on the road. “I feel like an entire week has passed already.”

“You’re not too tired for this… right?” Andrew cautioned, kind but slightly cocky smirk barely present on his face. 

“It’s fine,” Steven waved off. “I got enough in earlier today, and plus I finally found the location of the phone call… I’m going to go through with it until the end.”

“I’m proud of you. That was really efficient.”

“What, finding the location?”

“Yeah. It’s impressive.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Steven took the chance to glance at him as he checked the location once again, only to realize Andrew had gone back to staring out the window. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Andrew blinked, slowly turning back to his friend. “Hmm?”

“You look like you’re thinking very deeply about something.”

“Not really,” he denied. “I’m just tired; I didn’t get to sleep much this morning. I honestly thought you’d be the one more distracted with thoughts, if anything.”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“I dunno. It’s just… what I told you this morning? It sounded like you were finally digesting the question.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Steven focused on finding the location mainly to keep his mind busy and away from delving too deep into that question. That didn’t mean his mind would occasionally wander, of course, so he ended up giving it quite a bit of thought throughout the day anyhow. Not only that, but Steven had a feeling he already knew what his answer was ever since the beginning — what was important to him. 

Glancing in his rearview mirror at Shane in the backseat, Andrew continued. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not listening — he’s just zoning out.” Steven could see Shane in the rearview mirror make a face at Andrew and then roll his eyes, tuning out from their conversation once more. Andrew turned up the radio volume just a tiny bit for good measure.

“I mean…” Steven began, voice barely audible with the song filtering through the car speakers, “I was thinking a bit about what we were talking about earlier.”

“Did you ever find an answer?”

“Um.”  _ Steven didn’t even want to know yet _ . “I don’t know.”

“I guess you don’t have to know,” Andrew hummed. “I just feel like it gives me a sense of closure, at least.”

“Oh.” Steven tapped at his steering wheel, slowing the vehicle as they approached a red light. His brain finally processed Andrew’s words. “So you’ve found an answer?"

“I think so.”

“What is it?” he asked absently, taking the time to glance over at his friend again. “What keeps you grounded to reality as we work on this case?  _ What’s important to you? _ ”

“You.”

Steven’s heart stopped. He almost felt like his soul was leaving his body, leaving him dizzy as realization hit him like a bus. “I-”

“You are, Steven,” Andrew continued. He wasn’t necessarily rushing his words, and despite his sweet, low voice, he still sounded like he was urging himself to explain. “You’re important to me.”

Steven didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have much time to think of what to say either, as the light finally turned green and he had to continue driving.

Andrew’s words echoed around Steven’s head, filling the oddly empty space in his chest and suffocating him.  _ What did he mean? Did he cherish their relationship as much as Steven did? _ All the thoughts that Steven had been ignoring came tumbling down upon him, forcing him to realize what his own thoughts and feelings meant as well as becoming hyper-aware of what Andrew’s possibly could be.

He wanted to answer — he really did. Steven just didn’t know  _ how _ . A few times his mouth would open but no words would come out, so he just ended up closing it again and licking his lips. How would he explain all of his thoughts, explain why he refrained from giving Andrew a proper answer beforehand? 

Maybe he was just taking it too out of context. Maybe his own feelings were poisoning Andrew’s meanings, making his assumptions incredibly needy and selfish. He knew what he  _ wanted  _ those words to mean, but how was he supposed to know without directly asking?

Driving up to the gas station, Steven lowered the radio volume in favour of changing the subject, veering towards concentrating on the case once again. Andrew didn’t seem to react too much about Steven’s lack of an answer, so he tried his best to ignore it for the time being. 

It wasn’t too difficult to organize everything. Luckily, Andrew was acting as per usual, so Steve tried his best to keep that weird, new feeling he had so recently been introduced to in check. Shane was spacy from the entire day (and who could blame him), compliant in what he was asked to do. Feeling just a bit bad for him, Steven offered to buy something for Shane before he tugged Andrew away to the convenience store.

The investigation at the store didn’t take very long. Steven and Andrew fell back into their usual groove, working together as efficiently as possible; neither wasted time in what they were doing. The interrogation Steven held with the clerk was enough to take his mind off of things temporarily too, making notes of their conversation from a notepad in his uniform chest pocket.

When they left again, they walked slowly back to the car, matching each other’s pace with ease. The warm autumn evening calmed Steven, and he let himself breathe easier by simply revelling in Andrew’s presence at his side. Andrew was joking about something the store clerk had said, throwing in some of his trademark puns here and there.

Shane returned from the phone shack, pulling them away from their cozy little atmosphere. It was easy enough to report their findings to each other. At Shane’s request, the two ended up retreating to the phone shack with promises of looking it over for themselves, letting Shane wander by the car and do his own thing — perhaps to write own his observations down or even explore a bit into the brush. Something about his expression made him look kind of smug, but Steven ignored it for the time being.

Steven wasn’t working properly anymore. Now that it was just the two of them, alone and hidden away from the world, all of his thoughts came flooding back, bombarding him with questions he didn’t know how to ask. He pretended to look at the wood of one of the walls, listening to Andrew inspect the old phone behind him.

“What…” Steven began cautiously, “What did you mean, earlier?”

“What did I mean?” Andrew parroted, voice hushed.  _ That asshole knew exactly what Steven meant _ . Steven huffed, still staring stubbornly at the grooves in the old wood.

“I mean-” He struggled to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. “Like…  _ Me _ ? I- Of course we’re important to each other —we’re  _ friends—  _ but… what did you  _ mean _ ? Can’t- Don’t you have other things that are more important to- to- to be- to have- to find security in?

Steven couldn’t turn around. How was he supposed to find a way to weasel what he wanted Andrew to say out of him? It was incredibly selfish of him, of course, but some part of him was desperate to be given the green light to deepen their relationship even further. He didn’t just want everything: he wanted to  _ give  _ Andrew everything he ever wanted. Lack of communication wasn’t very common between them, but it was incredibly frustrating when it was. And of course, this time it was all completely Steven’s fault.

He didn’t want to turn around. Call him a coward,  _ whatever _ , but he couldn’t do it. Steven already knew how difficult it would be to look Andrew in the eye, not to mention speak clearly. If looking at all the grains of dust floating in the evening light calmed the quaver in his voice and keep his breathing even, then he’d rather stay like that just for a while.

“What do you  _ want  _ me to say?” His answer was cautious, prying Steven open with his timbre. Andrew read Steven like a goddamn  _ book _ .

Steven sighed. It was honestly the foreign emotions whirling around his head that was making this much more difficult than it had to be… or perhaps they weren’t so foreign as they were more intense. Andrew was probably just as inexperienced as he was in all of this but… but still, Steven didn’t have as good of a grasp on… whatever this was.

“I’m selfish,” he admitted. His voice came out as a whisper, floating on a breath. “With everything happening, I just can’t believe it-  _ how  _ important? I cherish everything about our relationship now and I can’t even imagine how much it’d pain me to lose this but… you mean  _ everything  _ to me, Andrew. I’d give you the world just to see you happy.”

Andrew didn’t respond. To be completely honest, Steven initially thought Andrew had actually left at some point during his little speech, so he turned around ever so slowly, first glancing over his shoulder, then letting his gaze slide to the corner of his eye. When he saw the figure standing silently behind him, he looked up from where he was slouching, meeting the gaze of his friend.

So much was going on in Andrew’s face that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. The soft evening light surrounded him, bathing him in a halo of orange light. His eyes were shining but his mouth hung open slightly, his pretty lips barely parted. Steven had to turn around completely to truly marvel the sight in front of him, leaning back to let the sturdy old wood of the phone booth support him.

Momentarily, Andrew pressed his lips together, determined to do something. Steven was already melting under the soft gaze he was giving him but… it took him only a few seconds to really process what Andrew was saying.

“What if I told you my world was in front of me, right now?”

As much as Steven could call it impulse, he knew it was something they both craved. One look into Andrew’s eyes and they were on the save wavelength, communicating their understanding between each other and agreeing at last.

Andrew was already leaning forward, eyes fluttering closed, as Steven finally crossed that last distance between them, gently pressing his lips against Andrew’s. It would be an understatement to say that it felt breathtaking, dizzying with tide of warmth and release rising in Steven’s chest; however, more than anything, it felt like the seal of a deal — a conclusion that was finally met after so much hesitation. Steven could even feel one of Andrew’s arms snake down, placing itself on Steven’s waist and squeezing, securing him where he was. 

Andrew was so, so important to Steven. The world could be ending, but as long as Andrew was there with him, he’d be grounded, he’d be safe from fear, he’d have the power to do  _ anything _ .

And he had a feeling Andrew felt the exact same way.

Parting briefly to catch their breath, Steven couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip, persuading Andrew to join him. 

“I can’t believe I felt nervous doing that,” Steven confessed. “We’ve known each other for so long and you’re so stoic about it and I just-”

“You think I wasn’t nervous?” Andrew mused, grinning wryly. Steven’s gaze flickered back up to him in surprise. “I’m surprised you can’t actually hear my heart right now."

Lifting a hand up between them, Steven let it hover over Andrew’s chest before reaching up further to feel his pulse at his neck. He didn’t know why he was so surprised when he realized how fast it was beating.

“Why my neck?” Andrew asked, amused. “Isn’t it more romantic to just feel my heart or something?”

“Well if you want me to do something like that, don’t wear your uniform.” He let his hand slide down to Andrew’s chest again and knocked against the slim but still clunky bulletproof vest.

“What should I have been wearing to seduce you, then?”

“Oh my god, Andrew, don’t you dare start-”

“Should I have brought roses? Maybe a Pinot Noir?”

“I hate you,” he said, despite leaning in once again.

“Do you really?” Andrew smirked.

“Of course not,” Steven replied, wrapping his arms around Andrew’s neck to pull him closer.

They stayed in that embrace for a while, losing track of time with every kiss. The only reason they really realized they had been slacking off was when Steven happened to glance behind Andrew’s shoulder, seeing Shane awkwardly leaning against the patrol car and politely waiting for them to finish.

 

* * *

 

 

“If we ever had to run away somewhere together, where would you wanna go?”

Steven frowned. He rolled over in his duvet, fluffling his pillow before he let his head fall into it. Staring at the man beside him, he tried to read what he was thinking. “Do you mean like…  _ eloping _ ?”

Andrew shrugged, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. “I guess? Whatever you wanna call it.” Andrew was being weirdly vague like he had been the day before, right before he had confessed to Steven. Pouting even more, Steven propped himself up on an elbow.

“You want to run away? What from?”

Andrew didn’t directly respond. He stayed silent for a while, either pondering the answer or simply avoiding the question. 

Steven continued for him. “I mean, no one would be against us marrying. I still don’t know that much about your family but… at least here in Mercy, I’m pretty sure everyone knew we were dating before we knew it ourselves."

“Yeah, I know that…” Andrew sighed, trailing off. Letting his head flop to the side, he gazed up at Steven. The stress in his face eased away the longer he stared, giving way to a gentle smile. “But… could you imagine? We could run away from everything… the case, everyday life… and we could explore anywhere we wanted to. It’d be like an adventure…”

“Just to escape reality?” Steven suggested. He relaxed, easily staring back down at his boyfriend. “Maybe. But… don’t we already spend all of our time together?” They were at Steven’s house now, just having had another meal courtesy of Andrew and watching some dumb romance movie over a bottle of wine. Steven had been insistent to still pace things out, so now they were lying in his bed together, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Of course, but… where would you want to go if we did run away? Just… drop everything and go?”

Steven had to think about it for a bit. He knew where he’d want to go; he knew the instant Andrew initially posed the question. Still, he let himself begin to marvel in the thought of actually escaping there, unafraid and free with Andrew by his side.

“I’ve always wanted to live in New York,” Steven revealed quietly. He knew his dreams were incredibly big, but he could never be ashamed about them in front of Andrew. “I know it’s a big city and insanely expensive to live in but… I’ve always been a big city kind of person. I’ve been there once or twice but… it just calls to me, y’know?” Andrew was smiling at him encouragingly, so Steven flopped back down against his pillows, determined to share his dream with his boyfriend.

“And what would you want to do there?”

“Hmm, well…” HIs imagination was running wild, but he wanted Andrew to be a part of the brainstorming too. “I’d want a cozy apartment that we could afford, snug in the middle of the city with jobs that we’re content with… what about you?”

“I want a cat,” Andrew answered immediately. 

“A cat?” Steven couldn’t help but laugh. “What would you want to name it?”

“I don’t know. Something classy.”

“I swear I thought you were going to come up with a bad cat pun.”

“You know what, that’s actually a  _ really good idea _ , Steven.”

“Don’t even get started. Uhhh… is there anything else you’d want?”

“A good kitchen maybe?”

“Why is that a question?”

“I dunno. I didn’t think that far yet.”

“You’re such a dork, you know that?”

Snuggling further underneath his covers, Steven inched closer until he could curl against Andrew’s side. Andrew shifted slightly so he could wrap his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“How hard could running away really be?” Andrew mused out loud. 

“It depends, I guess. If we went all out and hid our identities, it’d probably be a bit more complicated.”

“You think?”

“Name changes would just be the beginning of it.”

“Hmm… yeah.”

Steven looked up, leaning his head to the side so he could see Andrew’s face. “ _ Is _ there something you’re running away from that I don’t know about?” He didn’t get an answer, and the more he thought about it, the sadder he got. “There’s… there’s a lot I still don’t know about you and… I  _ want  _ to know everything about you. I want us to be able to communicate. If it’s the case… it doesn’t have  _ that _ much to do with us — yet at least.” He could feel Andrew take a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, looking back down at Steven. “I don’t want you to worry. I want us to communicate between each other too but… you can give me time, if I ever have something to say… right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steven murmured, nuzzling back into his side again. “Of course I would.”

“You know I’d let you have time too, right? You wouldn’t even have to ask.”

“That’s because you know what kind of a person I am.”

“Maybe so.”

“... You know I’m still going to worry, right?”

“About what?”

“I think you already know.”

“...”

“Well… can you turn off the lamp, at least? I know that John Novel person said they were going to hold off killing for a week but… it’s still probably going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“Hm. Okay.”

“Night, Andrew.”

“Goodnight, Steven.”

 

* * *

 

Steven had no idea  _ what _ he was worrying about, but he knew he had every right to as he saw the change in Andrew throughout the week.

Andrew was becoming… more distant. He’d still tell Steven about everything that had happened that day and open up but… sometimes Steven would catch him with his eyes glazed, or his speech would end up coming out relatively vague. Steven realized he had agreed upon giving his boyfriend space and time to communicate with him but… it still frustrated him to no end. He could see that Andrew was suffering from  _ something _ (probably having to do with the case) and Steven wanted to shoulder some of that burden, let him know that he wasn’t alone in whatever he was dealing with. But then again…  _ what could Andrew possibly know but could not tell Steven? _

They still spent a lot of time together. The week was slower since Revelations did seem true to their word and lowered their activity, so Steven and Andrew took that opportunity to spend as much time as possible with each other. It was definitely the anxiety from the case that was finally settling in and the question Andrew had posed the morning they started officially dating, but Steven almost felt like they were running out of time, as if any moment they would become victims of the case instead of people they barely knew. Perhaps that was what Andrew was worrying over.

But it wasn’t just how often he spaced out or became distant: everything about Andrew’s actions were becoming strange. Steven remembered the conversation they had in bed at the beginning of Revelations’ hiatus, so he definitely took notice to the new Manhattan magazines lying around his house. Not only that, but he began to notice the official-looking papers being left on tables and mantelpieces, stuffed into envelopes addressed to Andrew. At this point, Steven wasn’t quite sure how grounded he was into reality anymore.

Still, Steven persisted. He tried his hardest to get Andrew to tell him, to communicate with him, but he still wouldn’t budge. Both of them were spiralling into desperation by one means or another, distressed from more than just the case. 

It was hardest of all to see Andrew’s stoic facade fall apart as soon as they got back to Steven’s home, only for him to scramble to pick it back up again within seconds.

All of this piqued last Wednesday — the catalyst being the prison fire, of course.

Most of Steven’s concern was that whatever post-traumatic stress from the event that Andrew had gotten was going to pile up on top of whatever else was going on, so he did his best to stay by his side along the entire way. Even in the hospital, he’d nap in the uncomfortable armchair beside Andrew’s bed as they changed the dressings on his hands.

By the time they made it back to Steven’s house it was late at night, but neither were ready to sleep in the least

Steven sat by himself at his couch, absently sipping at a glass of red wine. He stared at the blank television screen, mind completely empty of thought. Mentally, he was exhausted, wishing that the case would just be over and wrapped up in a few day’s time.

There was movement at the entrance of the living room, and Steven barely registered that Andrew was standing there, arms crossed (to the best of his ability) and staring at his boyfriend. Some petty part of Steven refused to acknowledge him, so he continued to zone out.

“I’m fine now,” Andrew spoke up.  _ Like hell he was. _

Steven almost scoffed. He took another sip of his wine.

“Please… let’s not do this now,” Andrew begged. “I know you’re not tired yet but… please. I just want everything to return back to normal. Please let me have at least that.”

Steven was weak to Andrew, yes, but he was still stubborn. He felt himself grow more solemn at Andrew’s request, sparing a glance to his still heavily bandaged hands. Steven couldn’t even begin to imagine just what he was repressing now in an attempt to keep a lighthearted mood between them. He kept his mouth shut for a little longer.

He could hear Andrew sigh from across the room and then make his way over, the couch dipping as he sat down.

“Please,” he murmured again, leaning closer to Steven and nuzzling him by his ear. “I don’t know how much I can do but… I can distract you. I’ll do anything you ask of me.” He pressed a slow kiss to Steven’s cheek right before Steven pulled away. Steven tried to ignore the hurt look that flitted across Andrew’s face at his actions. Nonetheless, Andrew stayed exactly where he was, not advancing any further.

“Whatever I ask?” Steven mumbled. He took another slow sip of his wine, gauging Andrew’s reaction.

“Whatever you want.”

“Then I want you to tell me why you’re acting like this.”

He didn’t fail to miss roll of Andrew’s eyes in exasperation. 

“Anything but that.”

“But you  _ told  _ me!” Steven insisted.  _ God _ , his voice was raising too. “I can’t wait this long, Andrew! I have no idea what you’re doing, but it hurts me just to watch you shoulder the burden all by yourself. Let me share some of it!”

“But I can’t!” He was panicking, which only made Steven worry even more. “You don’t understand… I just can’t! This is the one thing I won’t do to you!”

_ “What do you mean?  _ I already told you: you’re my everything. I would drop everything to help you, but why can’t you just  _ trust  _ me?” Andrew was struggling with something, so Steven continued. “The  _ least _ you could do is trust me.”

Andrew couldn’t meet Steven’s eyes, so he sat there in silence, biting at his lip. He was probably trying to reflexively clench his fists, but because of the bandages wrapped around his hands he was unable to. Just for a little while longer, Steven let him steal some time.

“You have to promise not to get angry,” Andrew whispered, grimacing as he thought. Too late: Steven was already irritated. Nevertheless, he tried his best to let the negative feelings flow away, cleansing himself to be ready listen.

“I won’t get angry.”

“Well-” Andrew faltered, unsure again. “I just… you know what? I’m ready for you to not forgive me, I guess, but please just let me finish — that’s all I ask of you.”

Steven hesitated at first, mulling over what he could possibly mean, before nodding slowly.

Andrew continued. “I need you to promise that you cannot tell anyone under any circumstance, even when you do listen to everything I have to say.”

“I promise.”

“Swear it. On something important.”

_ What else was important to him? _ He wasn’t too materialistic and this was an incredibly serious matter, not to mention the fact that he could see Andrew growing distant again. Finally, Steven settled on something.

“I swear on our family in the Mercy police department.”

Steven was met with more silence. Andrew was scrutinizing him, judging for himself of its importance. Other than placing his glass of wine on the coffee table, Steven sat perfectly still, knees angled on the couch to face his boyfriend as he waited. Andrew seemed to be struggling with something again, only gathering the confidence to push through the emptier he got behind his eyes.

“My name is Raziel...  or at least that is the name I had chosen for myself in Revelations.”

Time stopped. It took probably everything in Steven to stop him from panicking or crying in outrage, but maybe it was the fact that he was frozen in shock that kept him from acting out. He nodded robotically, barely managing to utter a word.

“ _ Raziel _ ?”

Andrew took a deep breath, probably relieved that Steven hadn’t overreacted. “I chose it when I was…  _ initiated…  _ into Revelations because it means ‘ _ Secret of God _ ’ in Hebrew… in Judaism, Raziel is an archangel that is a ‘ _ Keeper of Secrets _ ’ or ‘ _ Angel of Mysteries _ ’.”

“Are… are they your  _ family _ ?”

“Not by blood.” His answer was immediate. 

“But are they your family?”

“They are the only  _ ‘family’  _ I know.” Andrew’s voice was slightly bitter, so Steven took it with a grain of salt. “I was… taken last and the latest, but I was still young.”

“Did… did your blood ever look for you?”

Andrew shrugged. “Probably. Just not hard enough.” Steven felt sick.

There was a bit of silence after his answer, so Steven assumed Andrew was giving him some time to digest his answer. He knew that wasn’t everything that he had wanted to say, however, so he nodded quickly to urge him to continue.

“I know you probably want to know a lot about them but… I’ll need time to explain everything. For now, I’ll just answer your question.

“Because of when I became a part of Revelations, the others don’t trust me as much. I’m not as religiously devoted to  _ Abeoji-”  _ the name was spat out in disgust, “ _ - _ as the others are, so they are careful around me, constantly testing me to see how faithful I really am.

“It got to such an extreme point that… well… I was tasked with something a little different. Usually… hmm… well… I was actually placed here in Mercy all those years ago, intended to gather intel on the police because I have the most real-world experience out of everyone in Revelations. That was my job: the insider, the secret keeper.”

_All of this time_ , Steven thought in bewilderment, _all this time,_ _he was just another part of Revelations._ The mere concept was so baffling that he could barely even fathom it. _There was no way this was actually happening. There just couldn’t be._

“I was actually the only person in Mercy, at first,” Andrew continued. “I was placed here based on policing availabilities, to be completely honest, but then I settled down and became a part of Mercy. That… that includes you, Steven. You… you became a part of my life.

“It wasn’t until somehow… I… uhm… they found that I had been near Cassiel’s subject the entire time. So… they moved the entire operation here. That’s why everything’s just going downhill from here now.”

“Cassiel… Cassiel has been with Revelations for longer. He was one of  _ His  _ favourites, so he got more leeway with what he wanted. Cassiel found his source of motivation again, so he was going to get that motivation, with the help of the rest of the  _ ‘family’ _ . I don’t know why I’m so bitter about it, because I know for a fact that I refused to mention anything about you to them cause… well, ‘cause I didn’t want anything-  _ anything  _ to happen to you.”

Steven honestly didn’t know what to feel. Information was coming at him like a train in both directions, and he couldn’t figure out which side was safer. Shifting in his spot, he struggled to push down conflicting sentiments about what he was being told under a calmer facade, fighting between keeping his morality or ensuring his trust in Andrew. He would be lying if he said that he couldn’t feel parts of his relationship with Andrew crumble. His face contorted slightly.

“Either way, their concentration shifted to Mercy, and that was that. Suddenly, the world I was conditioned into and the world I had made for myself were beginning to collide, and it’s still hard for me to figure out how the fuck I’m supposed to keep the balance without losing everything.

“At this point, everyone else feels like they want to test me again, so Beoji gives me a mission. Either I do it or I will suffer, watching who is the most important to me pay the price for my negligence and disobedience.”

“ _ He knew. _ ” Those were the only words Steven could manage.

“I guess we really were obvious to everyone… or perhaps something had slipped. You’ve seen how I’ve been over the past week. Because… because I didn’t want you involved, I said yes. So I was given my task. And I found myself in the prison this morning.”

“No,” Steven murmured. _ It couldn’t be.  _ He wasn’t going to believe it. “No, you… no…”

His voice was breaking. Tears were flowing freely from Andrew’s eyes, slipping through the cracks of the secure facade he had built up as Raziel.

“I- Well, when you said you couldn’t find the culprit-”

“No.”

“-Even though you combed the vicinity-”

“ _ Please no _ ,” Steven begged. He was shaking, tears brimming and overflowing from his own eyes. He couldn’t even imagine it —  _ how the hell did Andrew actually live through it? _

“Let’s just say that’s because- because… because he escaped right in front of you.”

Both were reeling in a state of shock. Steven was breaking under the pressure of what to believe and how to believe, torn between sympathizing for Andrew and despising him. Now that the dam had broken, he watched as Andrew began to fall apart in front of him, lapsing between waves of emotion and utter emptiness.

“Why?” Steven finally choked out. “Why’d you do it?”

“I didn’t have any other choice,” Andrew whispered. “It sounds easy to deny but… when you’ve been pressured by them for your entire life and are threatened with the little freedom you’ve clinged on to since you’ve gotten it… it was the final straw, Steven. They… they were going to kill me. They were going to  _ harm  _ you.”

“I- I don’t care-!”

“Don’t say that!” Andrew roared. “ _ Don’t say that!  _ You don’t even know shit about what they’ve put me through all my life and what I’ve done just to keep you safe! This was just like another level, something I had to clear to gain their shitty trust again. And let me tell you, it’s a hell of a lot easier to open a few nozzles and light a match while staying in denial of what you’re actually doing.”

Steven’s mouth snapped shut. He was burning inside, his chest feeling like it was being ripped apart. Those conflicting emotions tore at his throat, eating him alive.

“Do you know what’s  _ not  _ easy? What’s not easy is having the realization hit you when you barely escape with your hands burned, subjected to listen to the screams of agony and suffering that you know are your fault and having to deal with a regret you’ll never be able to mend.”

“I- I’m so-”

_ “Don’t be _ ,” Andrew said roughly — so much so that Steven almost flinched. “That I do not deserve. I still have to take responsibility for my actions.”

Steven felt like he was losing Andrew. He was slipping between his fingers like water, fading away from what Steven understood. He was finally controlling his emotions, wiping them away with a blank expression. Steven did his best to wipe at the tears streaked down his cheeks.

“I can’t tell anyone, right?” Steven finally muttered, stuttering a recovering breath. Andrew studied him for a few seconds.

“Who did you want to tell?”

“No, it’s fine-”

“Because if it’s Chief Bennett, then definitely no.”

“No! Not him, I…” Steven took a deep breath. “I’d tell Shane. He’s one of my best friends and I- I feel like he has the right to know.”

Andrew nodded slowly, considering it for a minute or two. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hm?”

Andrew sighed. “I kind of thought you’d want to tell him. And… yes, you can tell him what I’ve told you now. I’ll tell you everything else when- if- if I can.”

“ _ If _ ?”

His expression was solemn. “I have to run away. I don’t think I have another choice anymore.”

“Okay.”

“...  _ Okay _ ?”

“Okay. I’m going with you.”

Andrew blinked. “What?”

This time, Steven was determined. “I’m going with you. I said I’d go through everything with you, and I’m going to stay true to my word. I hope you have a plan.”

He was hesitating. “I- no, you can’t, can you? You couldn’t have already forgiven me. Plus we haven’t even been together for that long. What about-”

“I haven’t forgiven you,” he replied honestly. “I haven’t and I’m not entirely sure I ever will be able to. Still, we can work through this. I still trust you, and plus… what do you mean? We’ve been together for years; I’ve already committed.”

“I-” Andrew’s gaze slipped away from Steven, staring at the floor as he chuckled. “Wow, Steven, I just… you don’t know how much that means to me. Thank you so much."

“Something else is on your mind. Is it about what happened?”

“Yeah, I’m just… wondering...” Andrew hummed. His eyes were glazed again. “Soldiers come back as war heroes, but someone brainwashed to believe becomes a serial killer.” He turned back to Steven, and it was like there was something behind his eyes struggling to escape, struggling to find something to ground him. “Is that fair? Is that fair, Steven? Why do  _ I  _ have to be written on the wrong side of history?”

Steven didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t even know if there was a right answer to his question. Instead he sat there, staring back at Andrew with sorrow, only having the ability to sympathize. 

And that’s when he broke. Andrew sat there in front of Steven, staring blankly at nothing with his bandaged hands limp in his lap.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 “Do you have any questions?” Steven finished off quietly.

If a pin dropped in the room, it would have been heard clearly. It was as if the silence was deafening, maintaining a tension in the air that felt like it was tearing Shane apart.

_ Andrew was Raziel. Andrew was a part of Revelations. Andrew was the one who started the prison fire. _

And as much as Shane was unable to wrap his head around it, outright refuse to believe it, it all made sense.

_ Did he have any questions? _ Well of course he did…  _ but would he be able to ask them? _ Having to even sit there and listen to what Steven knew was unbearable, so he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get any words out. 

_ Andrew knew why Shane was being targeted _ ; he would know why he had a personal connection to the case. Shane wanted nothing more than to finally understand why he had been associated Revelations. Some selfish part of him even hoped that it might have just been some grand misunderstanding. Nonetheless, the more he stared at Steven, the more Shane realized that Andrew didn’t tell him either, as he had mentioned only a few things had been explained for the time being — which was more than enough, to be completely honest. 

“When are you going to leave?” he finally murmured, staring down at the cold dregs of peppermint tea in his mug. Glancing up, he saw Steven look conflicted again.

“I’m not.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Steven looked skeptical.

“I promise,” Shane assured him. “I’m not even sure I’ll be able to tell them what I heard tonight.”

“You might have to at some point.”

“Maybe. Not anytime soon, though.”

Steven sighed, leaning forward to pick up his own cold tea again. “I won’t tell you when, but soon. Even I’m in the wrong for holding this information for so long, but I can’t imagine how dangerous it is for Andrew — he’s not even functional: mentally or with his burns.”

“Hm, yeah. And?”

“Hm?”

“How are you planning on doing it?”

Steven stared out thoughtfully behind Shane, a small sense of longing reaching his eyes. “Andrew has always lived in a hotel suite. He never got a permanent home (probably because of Revelations), but he has most of that figured out by now. As for me… well… you’re welcome to use the house for now, I guess. I don’t know what I’m doing with it. And for the rest of the legal papers to go undercover — we’ve decided to really step it up because of who we’re up against — Andrew has thankfully been helping me through them, having them ready for me by the time he explained everything to me.”

“Oh. What about your family?”

“Most of them are still in Malaysia. I’ll get to that obstacle when I go back to visit or whatever.”

“... I’m not really in the best position to offer emotional support, but you do know that I respect that you’re going through with what you believe to be the best decision, no matter how hard it is, right?”

“Really? I’m glad, Shane. I didn’t think you’d take it well.”

“I mean, this means I’m going to have to give you up now, aren’t I?”

Steven looked like he was about to cry. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Just because you forget doesn’t mean it’s not going to be there.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” he whispered. “Your friendship has been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“If you’re going through this much just to get a happier life, don’t sacrifice everything just to keep what you had in your old life.”

Steven paused as he tried to smear tears away from his eyes. “I don’t want to give you up.”

“Me neither, Steven. Don’t forget that your friendship is one of the best things that has happened to me to — maybe the best thing that’s happened to me in Mercy.” Shane snickered wistfully, straining a smile through the emotional toil. “I guess I’m going to have to give you up to Andrew now, huh? I’m not sure how I feel about him anymore but… I can see you are both the most important thing to each other.  _ God _ , I feel like your dad now.” Steven let out a teary laugh.

“Okay.”

“Just know that if he ever hurts you, I’m going to find him and personally kill him myself, okay?”

Steven nodded, rolling his eyes. Shane breathed out in relief.

“You’ve helped me through good and bad, through thick and thin. You’ve helped me stay sane. Thank you, Steven. Thank you for letting me be an important part of your life."

Steven bit his lip. He looked like he wouldn’t be able to say anything if he tried, so he stood up and left Shane in the living room. It was fine though: Shane knew he expressed the exact same sentiment. A few seconds later, the tap turned on, and Shane could hear him finally start washing their breakfast dishes.

Shane stayed sitting for a while, not quite reflecting but rather regulating what he thought about everything he’d heard that night. There was a lot to unpack and he was still barely getting a grasp on the magnitude of Andrew’s situation, but as soon as his emotions lay dormant in his head, Shane stood up, going over to the kitchen to help his friend.

Both stood in silence, listening to the sound of water against the sink and the occasional clatter of cutlery or ceramic. Neither had anything further to express, only exchanging wet dishes to be dried and put away.

 

* * *

 

Thursday was a slow day.

The morning proceeded to be reserved. Steven whipped up something quick to eat while Shane rebandaged his arms, and both ate in silence. When they were done, they both set out to work.

Work wasn’t nearly as eventful either. Shane was subjected to staring at a blank piece of paper again, the bright and crisp white of its surface mocking the fact that he couldn’t even make one mark with his pen. He’d remember the resolve it must have taken Steven to tell him everything, but still he couldn’t will himself to pour out what had happened… at his own house. 

Ryan was still caring as usual. Though Shane joked that he was the one who needed the coffee rather than him, Ryan would insist that he didn’t drink coffee, leaving Shane with a cookie or two as well before retreating back to the table he was working at. Shane would stare at him as he sipped at his coffee, intrigued to watch how the agent read through various files and occasionally scribble a note on a scrap piece of paper. It was strangely endearing.

Steven also approached Shane at least once or twice during the day. Not once did they mention the conversation they had last night, but instead Steven would fall back to urge Shane to actually talk to someone about John Novel’s last visit in hushed whispers, careful enough to mind their other coworkers. He only ceased from his pestering when Shane informed him that he was probably going to end up telling Sara at some point or another.

It was interesting having the additional knowledge from the night previous, to say in the least. Andrew was still missing from the office (presumably because of his injuries and his mental state), but Steven hovered around their now rather barren desks strangely, checking to see if he was going to leave anything behind. He also seemed to be trying his best to wrap up paperwork and other assignments he had been given.

When both Shane and Steven returned home, it was just as quiet in the morning. Steven still worked on what Shane assumed were legal papers of some sort, as well as wandering around the house to see if there was anything he’d need to pack. Shane was a silent onlooker: curious but not meddling. Sometimes he’d point his friend in the right direction, but most of the time he tried to avoid it at all costs, ignoring the inevitable and impending outcome.

Even when Shane ended up falling asleep on the couch, Steven still rushed about, almost unaware that his friend was present.

Shane woke up in the middle of the night to Steven shaking his shoulder. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, groaning to indicate that he was, in fact, awake. When his eyes finally adjusted to the dim living room, he saw Steven’s concerned but tired face staring back down at him.

“You were shouting in your sleep again,” Steven whispered. Shane finally realized how clammy he felt. “Are you okay now?”

Confused but slightly reassured, Shane nodded. Steven gently smiled down at him before getting back on his feet.

“I was going to make some hot chocolate now. Did you want any?”

Steven continued into the kitchen without waiting for Shane’s answer, clattering around for a pot and in the fridge to get the milk boiling. Shane stayed wrapped up in his blanket for a bit longer, comforted by the normalness the situation offered.

Dragging himself to the kitchen, he sat at the breakfast bar, watching Steven prepare the drink. He got another coughing fit as he was waiting, breaking the peaceful silence of the early morning hours as he tried to catch his breath. Shane’s lungs were still recovering from the prison fire on Monday, so intense coughing fits weren’t a rarity. 

Two steaming mugs were set in front of them as they sat in the kitchen, staring off absently at various corners of the room. The only sounds present were the fridge humming and the occasional slurp of hot chocolate. 

When they finished, each set their mug into the sink to be washed tomorrow, going their separate ways to try and catch some sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Friday was about as equally as uneventful.

The office was still dull. Shane couldn’t work, Ryan would try and help him, and Steven would wander around acting oddly. In addition to that, Revelations seemed to be taking a break (thankfully), leaving them with more breathing room. Nonetheless, not much progressed in the means of the case, as they still lacked a lot of evidence to proceed any further.

At home, Shane tried to go to sleep early. Though it was already the weekend, he wasn’t sure if Revelations was going to try and pull something again, so he decided he’d take advantage of all the extra sleep he was getting. It didn’t do too much to clear his head, but it definitely helped him function.

Shane woke up in the middle of the night, but this time under his own volition. He shifted in his position on the couch, coughing a bit before rolling over and staring at the rest of the room.

There was a bit of light coming from the hallway, and even though Shane could hear movement, he was too tired to do anything about it. Not a minute later did Steven emerge, wearing a backpack and handling a few bags. Shane pretended to be asleep again, barely cracking his eyes open to watch.

Walking over to a dresser, Steven took the time to write out a quick note or two before procuring what Shane presumed to be a spare key, placing it quietly beside the note. He went to stand by the front door with his bags for what seemed like ages, simply staring at what he would be abandoning. 

With a final sigh of resolve, Steven turned around, dragging his baggage out the front door for the last time ever, securing the decision as it locked behind him.

Shane lay there for a while, staring at where he had seen his friend for what was probably the last time ever. Something felt unreal about the entire situation — perhaps both the time of night and the absurdity of everything that had lead up to that point. Now that he thought about it, Shane realized that this was definitely the best time for Steven and Andrew to leave: they had the entire weekend to escape and settle in wherever they were headed to next, letting themselves get a head start before anyone realized they were both absent from the office on Monday, let alone their homes.

Picking himself off the couch, Shane went to go investigate the note Steven had left. Just looking at the messy but familiar handwriting made him feel melancholic, but he tried to ignore the emotion in favour of seeing what his friend had to say to him.

 

_ There’s leftover pizza in the fridge! _

_ The rest of the food should last a week. _

 

The only other note on the dresser was a haphazardly placed sticky note with “ _ Joe’s Pizza _ ” scribbled on it, tossed to the side as if it has been simply a reminder. Shane picked up both notes and stuffed them into his pyjama pants pocket.

Just to make sure, Shane took a detour to the fridge, and sure enough, an entire  _ Domino’s  _ pizza was in the centre of everything. He grinned lazily when he saw the variety of meat and vegetables on the full pizza, waiting to be eaten the next day.

Laughing to himself at the insanity of the situation, Shane returned to the couch to sleep a few more hours. He was probably incapable of fully processing reality as it was now, and he had no idea how many issues he would end up encountering because of Steven and Andrew finally disappearing. As he snuggled into one of the couch cushions, Shane mulled over a dull regret of not being able to say a final goodbye to either of the two. Not only was his support gone, but two very good friends of his; life in Mercy was going to be very different from then on.

As his eyes fluttered shut once again, he briefly wondered if they were already on the highway, well on their way to a brand new life.

Steven and Andrew were no longer a part of Mercy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha i hope that clears most of your questions from that subplot :)   
> if you go back, pretty much everything with standrew and raziel should make sense now lol

**Author's Note:**

> [buzzfeed unsolved tumblr](https://unsolvedbs.tumblr.com/)
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> [my tumblr](http://universalsatan.tumblr.com/)
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> [writing blog (for chapter/fic updates)](http://celestialberries.tumblr.com/)


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